


to beyond the new horizon

by acastle



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Blood and Injury, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mentions of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Minor Character Death, Minor Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Past Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Lu Han, Past Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Shim Changmin, Slow Burn, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 17:22:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 54,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21547813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acastle/pseuds/acastle
Summary: “Try. One more time. I will find you your co-pilot. If it doesn’t work this time, we’ll stop. I promise."Chanyeol blinks, his mouth wobbling slightly as he searches Minseok’s gaze. Minseok keeps his guards up, but softens a little, breathing deeply when Chanyeol brings his hand up, lightly touching his fingers. Minseok doesn’t move his hand away.“For you. Okay,” he says, voice quiet.(Marshal Kim Minseok falls in love with two of his Jaeger pilots in the midst of the Kaiju War, though he knows they deserve better than him.)
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Jongin | Kai/Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Park Chanyeol, Kim Jongin | Kai/Park Chanyeol, Kim Minseok | Xiumin/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 62
Kudos: 179





	1. i: hear the beat of dawn

**Author's Note:**

> this is a pacific rim au, written with many liberties taken. some notes:
> 
> 1\. kaiju - essentially a massive monster, an alien species that resides in the Breach, a "portal" or fissure that connects the human world and their world, located deep in the Pacific Ocean. comes in many sizes, ranging from smaller (category 1) all the way up to gargantuan (category 5). ugly af.  
> 2\. Jaeger - massive robot/machine piloted by two people, built by man to fight off the Kaiju. no two are completely alike, built with the human body in mind so it has legs and arms and a head, where the pilots are stationed called the Conn-Pod. Mark 1s are the oldest, with the higher numbered Marks usually faster, more advanced, etc. (think iron man tbh). pilots are dressed in drivesuits, similar to space armor lmao, when they're in the Jaeger, and the drivesuits also have helmets.  
> 3\. Drift/neural handshake/Bridge (used alternately) - the system in which two pilots are able to control and pilot a Jaeger together; involves kind of "joining" two minds together so that they can act as one. Very difficult to achieve, as pilots must be "drift compatible" to be able to pilot a Jaeger.
> 
> warning/disclaimer: i have gwen stacy'd important, lovely people. I apologize. this is very heavy, and thus I split into chapters. I hope you enjoy.
> 
> title of fic and chapters from the english translation of exo's ['bird,'](https://youtu.be/s2VBnYGuuSw) to which most of this is written.

“Neural handshake failed; status: Incompatible,” Jongdae says, and Minseok sighs, watching as Chanyeol almost throws off the Pons helmet, stepping out of the drivesuit and muttering, most probably berating himself as he stalks off back to his quarters. 

“Will, will he be alright?” Seulgi is asking them, still with the suit and the helmet on, and Minseok kindly smiles at her, sees the tears on her face. Chanyeol’s memories aren’t the easiest. 

“He will be,” he tells her, “he’s very strong. You did very well. Thank you for trying, Miss Kang.”

She nods, leaving as soon as the drivesuit clicks off and removing the helmet, and Minseok turns to Jongdae, Junmyeon, both sitting by the computers with tense looks on their faces. 

“I really thought they would be drift compatible,” Junmyeon says, and he looks apologetic. “The results from their lab tests, they. They looked promising, but. I’m sorry, Marshal.”

“It’s alright, Myeon,” he says, staring at the door Chanyeol had exited from. “I thought she would too. I think Park is doing this on purpose, now.”

“It’s been hard on him,” Jongdae says, sounding protective. And Minseok sighs again, because he’s right, and they’ve been pushing him hard. But they need their best pilot back. They need him and his Jaeger, and there wasn’t much time to lose. Sehun and Zitao have been struggling, being the only pilot duo with sufficient experience available and with bigger Kaijus coming through the Breach, they needed all hands on deck.

Chanyeol had been quiet, but understanding and compliant when he had approached him for recruitment. Minseok knows, has been watching, and he’d been working hard. But it’s hard to forget, losing a partner.

“Marshal, I know this may be inappropriate,” Junmyeon starts, standing up straight, and Minseok can see where he’s trying to go. It’s not the first time it’s been brought up. “But. What if you two tried drifting together? Considering your similar histories, the probability of compatibility is very high.”

“No,” is his answer, as it always had been. He and Chanyeol, there would be so much in the drift between them. Too many rabbits not to be chased, it would be better if they would not.

He chooses not to think about the way Chanyeol had been looking at him recently, the few but lingering touches. He is beautifully transparent, and Minseok would devastate him with his memories, and it would add to the many reasons to hate himself.

“We’ve exhausted all our options from the academy,” Jongdae looks through the list, frowning a little. “At this point, we’ll have to outsource.” 

“There, there might be someone,” Junmyeon says, and the look on his face is a little uneasy, but his eyes are bright. Hope, shining through carefully. “Kyungsoo mentioned someone he used to work with, but he’s a Mark-3 pilot. But he’s good. Was a young prodigy, just under twenty kills.”

“Why’d he stop?”

“That, I don’t know,” Junmyeon says. “But I think it’s worth making a visit. I’ll look up his statistics for you.”

“Thank you, Myeon,” he says, fixing his leather jacket uniform and he feels the way Jongdae is looking at him. “I’ll talk to Park first, then I’ll be leaving right away. Send it to me.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, and he leaves, trying to look more stable than he feels. He nods in turn to those who greet and salute to him in the hallways, young training cadets and rangers and scientists and researchers and staff and technicians, all of them under his care, all of them looking to him for guidance and protection. He breathes, steadies himself for them. 

Chanyeol’s door is open, and he’s sat on his bed, head in his hands. Minseok knocks, “Chanyeol. Good work today.”

“You don’t need to lie to me,” he says, voice muffled. “I can’t drift with anyone. I know you’ve been trying, but I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

“We just haven’t found the right person yet,” he tells him. Fights the urge to come closer, stands firmly by the door. “We’ve been pushing you very hard. It can’t be easy, living through those memories again. I’m sorry for putting you through this. But we need you.”

“I know. I, I really do want to do this, for everyone,” Chanyeol is saying quietly. He looks up, and his eyes are wet, and Minseok feels a little shattered. “But. Doing it over and over, having to watch her die, over and over. I can’t stop chasing the rabbit. It’s crushing. I don’t know if I’m the man for this job.”

“You underestimate your strength-“

“You underestimate my grief,” he bites back, eyes blazing, but he deflates almost immediately as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and drops his head, staring at his lap. Minseok takes the heat, because he can, because he knows what he’s going to say. “I’m. I’m sorry, Marshal. But I don’t think I can do this. You have no idea, what it’s like. Being connected to someone then they’re ripped from you and then they’re gone.”

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t say that  _ “I do know what it feels. I know  _ **_exactly_ ** _ how it feels.”  _ Doesn’t comfort him, as much as he wants to. Instead, he steps forward, and tilts his chin up. His eyes are shining, lips pink and skin ruddy. Minseok swallows. “Try. One more time. I will find you your co-pilot. If it doesn’t work this time, we’ll stop. I promise.”

Chanyeol blinks, his mouth wobbling slightly as he searches Minseok’s gaze. Minseok keeps his guards up, but softens a little, breathing deeply when Chanyeol brings his hand up, lightly touching his fingers. Minseok doesn’t move his hand away. 

“For you. Okay,” he says, voice quiet. His hands are warm, his eyes, tired, soft. Trusting.

It’s dangerous. Minseok knows this is dangerous. He lets go, and bows to him, taking his leave silently. He barely stays long enough to see Chanyeol bow back.

.

He reads the file in the helicopter as they make their way across the sea.

Kim Jongin, piloted  _ ‘K.A.I. Alpha’  _ with his father since he was fifteen for seven years, with eighteen confirmed kills, until the team abruptly retired five years ago and the Jaeger was decommissioned in the second wave of the Kaiju war, and eventually was destroyed. 

He calls Kyungsoo. “You failed to tell me you worked with the Kims and K.A.I. Alpha?”

_ “Jongin is very private,”  _ he says, expression blank even in the hologram, and Minseok breathes deeply, trying not to show his frustration.

“They set the record for most kills-”

_ “Until you made the new one, Marshal.” _

He blocks the memory with every bit of his willpower. Will not start this today, not with him. “Kyungsoo. We’ve been struggling for  _ months,  _ trying to find Park a good co-pilot. If you had known about  _ Kim Jongin  _ being available, you should have put him at the top of the candidate list. We’re in dire need of someone with that skill set.”

_ “He’s been through a lot, sir,”  _ he says.  _ “He lives a quiet life now. I’m sorry for not saying anything, but I deemed it unnecessary as  _ **_you_ ** _ would have been the perfect drift partner for Park. My studies can’t lie.” _

“We will have words when I come back, Dr. Do,” he says as the helicopter begins to make its descent, sending a firm look to Kyungsoo’s way.

Kyungsoo sighs, but nods.  _ “Yes, sir. I understand.” _

“For now, contact the Hong Kong Bay. Look for Marshal Zhang for me. He knows what to do,” he says. “He should be there by the time I return.”

_ “Understood, sir,”  _ Kyungsoo nods, and Minseok ends the call, bracing himself for the landing, for what’s to come.

He steps off, and finds himself a ways off from a small, quiet village. Simple houses, not very many of them, and he walks towards the one with a simple brown tiled roof and a few dogs yipping and playing in the front yard, just by the edge, unassuming and seemingly unlikely to house a retired, awarded Jaeger pilot.

Just as he comes up to the fence, someone comes out. A young man, handsome, but experience and a history of fighting and war subtle in his movements, something Minseok knows well. 

“Kim Jongin,” he greets, and he looks up. His eyes are bright, gentle, his mouth parting gently. Minseok waits, doesn’t look at the plushness of his lips. 

It takes a moment, but he stands up straight, bringing his hand up in salute. “Marshal Kim.”

“At ease, Ranger,” he says, and he comes forward through the gate. “It’s good to meet you.”

“You as well, sir,” he says, and his tone is as soft as his eyes, and he’s shyly bowing a little. 

“You don’t look very surprised to see me,” Minseok says, watching as Jongin leashes up the dogs, all licking at his fingers playfully. He looks at them so warmly, calmly, and it makes Minseok feel quite guilty, for what he’s about to ask of him. “You must have been expecting me.”

“I wouldn’t say expect,” he replies, voice still soft. “But with everything happening, I thought it would be an inevitability.”

Minseok nods, smiling at the dogs who crowd his feet, and scratching behind the ears of the one that jumps up and stands, pressing its paws against his leg. 

“They’re cute,” he remarks. Innocent, bright, affectionate. He doesn’t know why Chanyeol is suddenly in his thoughts, and he represses it as much as he can. Another person comes with the flow of memories, and he does his utmost not to choke on his regret and loneliness.

“That’s Monggu, this is Jjanggu and Jjangah,” Jongin introduces his dogs, smiling at them fondly. For a former pilot, young prodigy with a rare kill record and formidable reputation, he’s surprisingly shy, reserved. His smile is quite nice.

They stand there for a minute, Minseok awkwardly petting Monggu’s head as Jongin shifts on his feet, looking at the ground. Eventually, he says, “May I have a word, Ranger?”

Jongin nods, and he leads the way out to the street, barely wide enough for two lanes for cars, not that there are any to pass through in one as secluded as this, and they walk, silent for many moments. Minseok would break the silence, but this isn’t an easy conversation. If it were to happen, it best be on Jongin’s terms.

“I’m sorry, if I’m being too quiet,” he says eventually, eyes on the dogs in front of him. Minseok hums. “I’m, I’m not very good, with new people. It takes a while. And I might be out of touch. It’s been a long time, since I’ve been involved with anyone in the Jaeger program.”

“So Do Kyungsoo does not count?” he asks, eyebrow raised. Jongin smiles sheepishly. “You are friends?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, he’s been working directly under me for almost the last year,” he says, and Jongin remains quiet next to him, hand rather tight on the leashes, “and in all this time, he had not mentioned that you were acquainted.”

“Kyungsoo is very kind,” he says. He doesn’t look at Minseok. “I asked him for some time. He gave it to me.”

“I see,” he starts, “I did not intend to be insensitive-”

“No, sir, it’s fine,” he says, shaking his head. “I understand, where all of this is coming from. Why you’re here. Kyungsoo keeping me in hiding wouldn’t be the right thing to do.”

He’s quiet again as they make a turn, and Minseok offers to handle one of the dogs as they start tangling together and give Jongin some grief. His help is accepted timidly, a leash handed over and a gentle smile on his face. They keep walking, many minutes pass. 

“Marshal,” he starts, biting his lip as he considers his words carefully. “I’m afraid. That I won’t be of much help to you.”

Minseok looks at him, watches as he tries to form his sentences patiently. He’d already been fighting in a Jaeger and had a few Kaiju kills under his belt at an age wherein Minseok had still been a cadet training in the Academy, but he’s really very young, even younger than him. It shows especially now.

“I. I don’t have a team anymore. You know what they did to Alpha,” he says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “And I don’t have a partner. My father, he died, shortly after we retired.”

“I’m sorry,” Minseok tells him sincerely, quietly. 

“It’s alright,” he says. “I’m doing well. My family is doing fine. But, as much as I would like to help, I don’t have much to offer to you. I have no co-pilot, no Jaeger. What use will I be?”

“I think, plenty,” he says, slowing down to a stop. Jongin looks at him. “I have a co-pilot. I have a Jaeger. I have a team for you, if you’ll have them.” 

He blinks, and Minseok waits for his word.

“I don’t think I’m so much to have this much confidence in.”

Minseok catches his breath. “You’re not celebrated for nothing, Ranger.”

“It was mostly my dad.”

“But he needed your strength, your flexibility and ability to have done as much as he could,” he says. “Piloting a Jaeger is a two-way street. You know this. Both pilots contribute, and anyone,  _ everyone,  _ can understand why you were fighting the hard battles at such an early age. You’re a breed of a different kind. I need you, your level of skill and experience. I need  _ you.” _

Jongin breathes, considers him for a long while. Minseok holds his breath for too long. 

“Must be quite a pilot, if you’re willing to fly out this far to seek me out for them,” he says. There is interest in his voice, a willingness Minseok knows he means. It’s a bit of hope he latches on to.

“Park Chanyeol,” he says, his chest warm and tight and he fights to not let his emotions get the better of him. Jongin’s eyes widen.

“Park Chanyeol, of  _ ‘November Star?’” _

“You know of him, then?”

“Who wouldn’t know of him?” he says, “Not just anyone can finish a fight on his own. Double event, Manila, right?”

“Categories 4 and 5,” he says. There’s a surge of pride he can’t quite deflate. “He’d agreed to come out of retirement around six months ago, we’ve been trying to pair him with some of our best trainees, and many other pilots we’ve screened. No one’s been able to drift with him.”

“And you think I will?” he asks curiously. 

“Someone as talented as you, I’m willing to take the risk,” he says, and he means it. Jongin’s cheek is then dusted with a faint pink. “Would you be willing? To try?”

He’s quiet for a few moments, looking down at where his smaller dogs are pawing at each other’s ears. Minseok watches him take a deep breath, watches as he bites his mouth gently.

“You’re quite convincing,” he says softly. 

Minseok hopes. “Is that a yes?”

“For you? It is,” he says, voice softer still and Minseok’s chest throbs, the words familiar and coming from him, it sounds achingly sincere. 

“Thank you, Ranger,” he says, bowing his head a little. “This is very brave and kind of you.”

“It’s not,” he shakes his head as they walk again. “It’s just the right thing to do.”

“Still,” Minseok says, and Jongin looks at him. His eyes are bright, cheeks still pink. “I appreciate this greatly.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Really. Not a lot of opportunities to work with two pilots who’ve done solo combat in a Jaeger. I think I’ll be the one learning here.”

Minseok pauses, takes a deep breath, stops the memory from cropping up, forming in his mind. 

“You’ll work directly with one of them,” he says, “I’ll be. More of supervising.”

Jongin watches him, but nods his head, understanding that it’s not something to be pushed.

They walk for a while longer, eventually en route back to his house, and Jongin lifts up Jjangah, deposits her in Minseok’s arms. Her eyes stare up at him, and she yawns, stretches out her tongue and getting comfortable. 

“I don’t suppose I can bring one of them with me?” Jongin asks him, and Minseok lowers his face to let the poodle in his arms nuzzle him, nose across his cheeks. He feels Jongin’s eyes on him, soft gaze, and he tells himself it’s for his pet. Must be.

“It’s not regulation, but they’re happy little things, aren’t they?” Minseok says, shaking his head with a smile as she tries to lick across his lips. “The Shatterdome could use a bit more happy.”

Jongin smiles shyly, still quiet. He’s rather beautiful.

Minseok can’t fight the urge to think of Chanyeol.

.

It’s raining when the plane touches down in the Jeju Bay. Minseok shakes his head when someone opens an umbrella for him, instead gesturing for Jongin behind him. 

He braves the rain, coming down the helicopter and Kyungsoo is waiting for them near the entrance, looking out of place among the heavy metal and wear and tear of the Bay in his neat sweater and custom lab coat and glasses and looking especially small under his huge umbrella, but his smile is welcoming. 

“Dr. Do,” Minseok greets him with a nod, Kyungsoo nodding in turn, but when he sees Jongin, he smiles, and pulls him in for a hug. 

“How’ve you been?” he asks, patting the side of his face as they separate. 

“Good,” Jongin replies. His smile is sincere and eyes bright. “Thank you for giving me the time.”

“I hope it was good to you.”

“It was. I’m ready to get back in, though,” he says, and Minseok glances at him. He’s already looking back, and his smile widens. 

“Dr. Do,” Minseok says, standing up to his full height, shrugging off the rain casually. “Please report back to the lab. I have new specimens coming in from Heechul, and under no circumstances must Baekhyun be left alone.”

“With Heechul, or the specimens?”

“Either. I can’t trust him to not find ways to shut us all down, in any case,” he says, and Kyungsoo nods, bowing before taking his leave. 

“So the fleet is dealing with black market Kaiju organ sellers now?” Jongin asks, and Minseok hums, impressed that he’s still somehow in the know.

“We always have been. Kim Heechul’s just one of the better ones. And it just so happens he doesn’t care much for who knows he’s doing illegal work,” he says, leading him through the Bay, inside to where the Jaegers are housed, a flurry of work and repairs and people working around the clock to get everything working and like a machine that never stops. “When was the last time you’ve seen a Jaeger up close?”

“Too long,” Jongin says looking around with wonder, familiarity, as he puts down the umbrella, and a smile breaks out on his face. “Always loved being in a Bay. Anywhere. All the metal, the chaos. It’s comforting. Scary, but home.”

“Truly a Ranger,” Minseok smiles in turn, and as they walk, he points to their left, where a Jaeger is being prepped, repairs being made to its gorgeous copper orange metal finish. It’s sleek, almost elegant, a little luxurious even for a Jaeger. “Honey Danger, a Mark-7 model piloted by the youngest of our pilots, Huang Zitao and Oh Sehun.”

“Sehun?”

“You know him?”

“Trained with him for a while,” he says, and then someone is barreling into him with little finesse, barely managing to stand on their feet and keep them upright. 

“Nini!  _ Nini,  _ is it really you? This is going to be really awkward if it’s not you,” Sehun is saying, his hair dyed a vibrant red-orange to match his Jaeger, what a  _ brat,  _ and he’s still in drivesuit, just having ended the trial runs for the new twinblades installed. 

“Hunnie,” he grins, hugging him tightly. He pauses, and pulls back. “Did they name your Jaeger after you?”

“He’s a brat,” Minseok says by way of explanation. Sehun just grins at him as his partner sidles up next to them, fixing his uniform. “Zitao, this is Kim Jongin. Jongin, Huang Zitao. One of our most talented, our best in combat.”

“An honor,” he bows, and Minseok watches the blush on Jongin’s face spread. He can’t be much older than Zitao, and it’s strange to have someone so close to your age treat you as an authority. It’s strange for Minseok, to have people like Yunho and Siwon and his other seniors report to him. He’s the fixed point in the Shatterdome, has to be. There’s not much for it, no room or time to be wasted to be awkward or unsure.

“You’re here for Chanyeol, right? He’s been a little stressed lately, but he’s super sweet. A real sweetheart, you’ll love him,” Sehun tells Jongin, and at Minseok’s questioning glare, he says, “Baekhyun told me. There’s no point keeping it a secret, Marshal, everyone will find out soon anyway.”

“Report to the lab for post trial evaluation,” he says, and they both pout at him, but he stands firm. “And tell Dr. Byun this exactly: the next time he fails to abide by the confidentiality and discretion protocols of the laboratory and the Bay, he’ll be demoted to Cadet evaluations.”

“Taking Heechul and the giant monster guts away from him, that’s cruel,” Sehun says, but he’s poorly suppressing a grin, and he and Zitao salute to him before taking their leave, Sehun leaving a little peck on Minseok’s lips, and then a little kiss on Jongin’s cheek. 

Jongin blinks, watches them leave, then asks him, “Is he. Are you-“

“No, Sehun’s just like that with everyone,” he says, feeling his face twitch at the thought of being overtly touchy with Jongin, but he walks off, still, introducing the other Jaeger teams to him, a total of four, including, “And this is what you’ll be piloting, if things go well.”

He hears Jongin chuckle behind him, “I should have known that Park Chanyeol and November Star would come as a package deal.”

“Quite a restoration job, the double event damaged her almost beyond repair,” he says, staring up at the machine, still being put together, a deep maroon metal body with a sharp navy blue trim along the build, streamlined but with heft. A beautiful, fine Jaeger. “But we’ve done what we can. Rebuilt her missing arm and pieced back together the legs from other Mark-6 Jaegers in a similar make. And she has a double core nuclear reactor now, only one in the fleet with it.”

“She looks new,” he says, and Minseok watches him carefully. The way he looks up at the Jaeger, the way he keeps bouncing on his feet, all good signs. “I’d love to get to pilot her.”

“I sincerely hope you do, as well,” he says. “I am hopeful.”

“Will that be enough?” Jongin looks at him, curious. Maybe a little apprehensive. 

He looks back, and there is a shift in his chest he knows too well. “Hope’s gotten me very far. Got this Bay very far. It will do the same for you. I am determined.”

Jongin blinks at him, and he’s achingly pure, trusting and quiet and Minseok tries not to think too much. Just needs to be as strong for as many people as he can. 

He’s Marshal Kim Minseok again in a moment, body straightening and he looks back when the dome’s massive gates open, wind and light and rain brought in like a hurricane as a Jaeger is carried in, a gorgeous machine in a cherry red with the purest sheen, and it makes even Honey Danger look  _ old,  _ suddenly, all sleek lines and sophisticated design, power lining every metal plate, and it’s then stationed and immediately attended to by a team.

“Just in time,” he says, and he beckons Jongin along. “Scarlet Fury. The first and only Mark-8 in the world, fastest and most flexible ever created. Only been to battle twice since its deployment a few months ago, piloted by Marshal Zhang Yixing and Wu Yifan. ”

“She’s something else,” Jongin is looking in awe. Minseok had been the same, the first time he’d seen her. “I didn’t know that Jaeger’s could look like this.”

“We didn’t think she could, either,” he says, and just then, her pilots are coming down through the lift, dressed still in their drivesuits and their helmets under their arms, a formidable team, a bit temperamental with such contrasting personalities, but when they work well, they work very,  _ very  _ well.

“Marshal,” Yixing greets him first, and he’s drawn into a short hug, a pat on the back of his head. “The call came earlier than expected.”

“My apologies for the suddenness of everything, Marshal Zhang,” he says, “but I think we’ve found our other point man.”

He watches as both their gazes move to where Jongin is standing behind him, and Yixing tilts his head in recognition.

“Jongin,” he comes forward and shakes his hand firmly, “I haven’t seen you since San Francisco.”

“Quite a fight, that one,” he says. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Where’d you find him?” Yifan is asking Minseok quietly as they watch them exchange words. “I didn’t know he was still active.”

“He wasn’t,” he answers. “None of our co-pilot candidates were able to drift with Park. He’s something of a last resort; Kyungsoo had kept his whereabouts hidden from us until our prospects failed.”

“Park that important to outsource for retired pilots, then?”

Minseok bristles at the question. “We need pilots like them.”

“We need a pilot like you, too, and it’s obvious to everyone that you and Park would be drift compatible, but I guess nothing’s going to get you back in a Jaeger.”

Minseok breathes deeply, and it’s not like Yifan is wrong, but the words don’t settle well with him, makes him think too much.

“I’ll be taking Jongin to his quarters now, introduce him to Chanyeol,” Minseok says then, and he does his utmost to not glance at Jongin as he shifts his attention to him. “I’ll meet you in the laboratory in an hour’s time, Yixing. Your old quarters are ready for you, the brief should be there as well.”

“How exciting,” he says dryly, but they’re leaving, and Minseok and Jongin walk side by side through the halls, and Chanyeol’s left his door open. He’s just returned from training, pulling his shirt over his head, and Minseok breathes sharply, steels himself.

“Park,” he says, and he looks up, and he stands, salutes him. His torso is shining with sweat and Minseok’s chest is pounding. “At ease. This is Kim Jongin.”

“An honor,” he says, nodding his head, but Jongin doesn’t blush or get flustered the way he had with Zitao. He blinks, studying Chanyeol with an intrigued expression on his face. 

“It’s an honor for me to meet you, too,” he says, comes forward, and they shake hands. Minseok sees it,  _ feels  _ it, the recognition of  _ something,  _ something good for them, hopefully.

“I hope you don’t mind having a roommate, Park,” he says, clearing his throat a little. “We’re short on rooms, but I can find another arrangement if you prefer-”

“No, no, it’s okay, Marshal,” he says, eyes bright and Minseok feels it down to his heart, their sincerity. “I don’t mind.”

“I have a dog, though,” Jongin murmurs, and Chanyeol looks back at him, face instantly bright and he’s smiling, wider and wider and he’s beautiful. Minseok feels crushed with everything. “Will that be okay? He’ll behave.”

“Yes, of course,” he says, and they’re smiling at each other and Minseok is overwhelmed, suddenly.

“Right. I’ll leave you two to it, then,” he says, and they both look at him with twin expressions of  _ ‘No, don’t,’  _ and Minseok is finding it harder to breathe, because he can’t,  _ can’t,  _ feel like this, not for one person, and especially not for two.

He walks out, and he barely makes traction before Chanyeol is walking behind him to catch up to him, calling for him.

“Marshal, Marshal, wait, please,” he’s saying, and Minseok wants to go even faster, but he knows it will make him look ridiculous, trying to avoid him, so he sighs quietly, and slows down.

Chanyeol catches up to him, breathing hard, still shirtless, and Minseok fights the urge to blush for him when everyone walking by stares, but Chanyeol doesn’t seem to mind, his eyes only on him.

“Is, is he my co-pilot?” he asks. 

“Hopefully,” he says, not knowing where to look. At his face, at his chest, his feet. He settles for the wall behind him. “The lab says it should be a good match. I’m optimistic for your chances.”

Chanyeol is quiet for too long. Minseok waits patiently, but he doesn’t think he can watch his sweat dry on his skin any longer, so he says eventually, “What is it, Park?”

“I feel like. I’m burdening everyone,” he says, and Minseok feels his heart drop with how small his voice is. “I’m making things hard and you had to go look for a  _ retired  _ pilot just so that someone could work with me, it’s. It’s too much trouble. I’m sorry.”

Minseok doesn’t like the words. Not in any way. “You are many things, Chanyeol. But you aren’t any trouble, you’re not a burden. I’m proud, very, very proud, of everything you’ve done, of all your struggles and you’re working very hard. I am immensely thankful that you're in my fleet. I don’t like that you’re thinking of yourself as a burden. You aren’t.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Marshal. Thank you. I’ll work harder, for you.”

“Do it for you,” he says. He looks up, and tells him seriously, “You don’t have anything to prove to me. I may show my frustrations sometimes, but I have never doubted that you can do this. You can do anything.”

“You’re being too kind.”

“You’re being too harsh, with yourself,” he says, and Chanyeol looks to be getting emotional again, touched and sincere. He swallows, and looks back down, trying to get a hold on himself, trying to stop. 

A long pause settles between them, not uncomfortable, but out of place in the hallway and Chanyeol’s current state of undress. Then, “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

Minseok tries not to breathe too obviously. “You’re too tall. I don’t particularly like looking up.”

“Maybe that’s why I want you to look at me,” Chanyeol says, a soft lilt in his voice, teasing, and a little wonderful. Still guarded, still tired, but it’s  _ something. _ Minseok feels greatly relieved to hear it.

“I already have Sehun and Zitao to rein in, I don’t need another brat in the Bay,” he says, and he looks up then, giving in, and he’s smiling gently, eyes fondly looking at him. His chest hurts with want. “You should rest, Ranger. You’ve had a hard few weeks.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, bowing respectfully. He smiles, turning to leave, and Minseok thinks quickly. Doesn’t want it unsaid. 

“This is good,” he says, just as Chanyeol is a few feet away. He looks back, eyes wide. “You’re smiling. Making jokes. I know this one will be good.”

Chanyeol considers him for a moment. Then he’s smiling again. “I think it will be, too.”

.

“This place is too clean,” is the first thing Yixing says as Minseok enters the laboratory. “This is cleaner than most hospitals, the whole place. Even the Bay is too organized for me to be comfortable.”

“I run a tight ship, I can’t afford for anything to be out of place,” he replies, and Baekhyun snorts in the corner where he’s slicing away tissue from a giant Kaiju liver. 

“Captain Kirk was never this anal about order in Star Trek,” he says, and Minseok ignores him. In his place, Junmyeon pinches his ear, and Baekhyun whines as he curls away from him. 

“Have you gone through the brief, Yixing?” he asks, watching Kyungsoo wraps up writing out his equations on the floor to ceiling chalkboard, hanging precariously from the sliding ladder before coming down carefully. 

“It hasn’t changed much from the many other previous versions,” Yixing says, taking a seat next to Junmyeon and gripping his thigh. Minseok notes the color on his chief medical officer’s cheeks, but says nothing. “What’s changed? Found a way to destroy the Breach?” 

“November Star,” Minseok says, and the rest of the room goes quiet. “I couldn’t put everything in the brief because what we’re about to do isn’t exactly approved. The international council won’t fund us for something powerful enough to bring down the Breach, once and for all. They don’t want to take the risk. So, I had it hidden. In a Jaeger.”

“You’re. Going against protocol and breaking the rules?” Kyungsoo asks, wide-eyed.

“Yes.”

“Holy shit. I take it back, you’re so much cooler than Captain Kirk,” Baekhyun says. Kyungsoo pulls on his hair. 

“Min, that’s. That’s a suicide mission for that team,” Yixing says, standing. “You can’t do this to your Rangers. Even though they’re ready to die for any mission, you can’t do that-”

“The plan is for them to activate the Jaeger, and eject before it explodes and collapses the Breach,” he says. “I will not send out Park and his partner to die.”

They all look at him curiously. He ignores it, and his personal feelings. 

“With the restorations we’ve made, November Star is stronger and more powerful than she ever has been. That double core nuclear reactor is enough to blow up several cities. It should be more than enough to destroy the Breach. What’s left of it, of the Kaiju still lurking there.”

“You’re making Chanyeol give up his Jaeger?” Kyungsoo asks him. Minseok takes the deepest breath, looks at Junmyeon, who nods grimly.

“It was his idea,” he says quietly. Baekhyun drops his scalpel. “He. When we were in the midst of finding a Jaeger for him to pilot, he told us to find her. Make her the weapon to end it all.”

“So her final mission would be to destroy the monsters that took everything from him,” Junmyeon says from memory, and Baekhyun’s goggles slip from his nose and into the liver. His mouth is comically open wide. Minseok understands.

“This is a really expensive mission,” Baekhyun says, and Yixing gives him a look. “I -  _ shit,  _ this is why you needed Heechul’s connections. So you can do all of that to the Star.”

“It will cost us more than just money if we keep going on the way we are now,” Minseok says, repressing his sigh, his exhaustion. “Everyone knows that they’ll send more soon, and we won’t be able to keep up and fight them all for long.”

“Is, is it even possible for the Breach to open for something to pass through?” Yixing asks him, and Minseok looks at Kyungsoo, who looks at them all a little nervously, but he stands regardless, points to his chalkboard.

“Well, according to the numbers,” he starts, fixing his glasses, “We should see a quadruple event in thirty days, more or less.”

“That’s comforting,” Yixing mutters, but quiets when Minseok shoots him a look.

“With how big the Kaiju have been recently, we can expect that these will come in Categories 4 and 5,” he says, pointing to a part of the equation that no one else in the room can really comprehend. “With their expected massive size and the increased traffic, it’s highly likely that the throat, the passageway between the Breach and our world, will stabilize, and remain open enough for the Jaeger to pass through.”

“So. November Star is our running point,” Minseok says, everyone’s eyes on him. “Scarlet Fury and Honey Danger will be defense, and the plan is for November Star to hitch on to one of the Kaijus, to pass through the Breach and finish the job.”

“And you’re expecting a retired pilot, a highly talented pilot but a pilot who’s not been in a Jaeger for five years nonetheless, to be able to be part of this and be successful?” Yixing says, and he’s known this would come up.

“With the bit of time Kyungsoo had predicted for us, it should be enough for Jongin to retrain himself and get back into the pace of things,” he says. “Should be enough for those two to familiarize themselves with each other. Try to. Get in the pace of things.”

“This is a big ask for a new recruit,” Yixing says, and. He’s right. He looks at Minseok, and he knows he wants to say it, wants to ask why he’s not the one going in the Jaeger. He doesn’t, though, and for that, Minseok is grateful. “Let’s hope he’ll be ready.”

“Let’s hope everyone will be,” he says in turn.

.

Jongin undergoes training, and it’s immediately apparent that though he had been out of practice, he had not lost his skill, not having lost his sharpness and fluidity.

He progresses quickly, with physical training and reconnaissance, experience lined in every move and it always draws quite an audience. Of training cadets, of staff, of many of the senior technicians and sometimes even Baekhyun would drop in to watch his combat training. 

Minseok tries not to give in too much, to his urge to watch and oversee too intimately, and the Dome is never without work for him, so it works in his favor. Still, at times, he will find himself in the training facilities and happen to pass by the rooms in which Jongin would be practicing alone, refamiliarizing himself with the sensations of being in a drift, being one with a metal titan, and it’s almost hypnotic.

His day ends late, later than usual, and he’s walking back alone to his quarters, when he sees the light on in one of the combat rooms, and he pauses. Looks through the small window of the double gate, and sees Jongin, who is all precision and languid limbs, spinning the bo staff used for training in his nimble hands and his feet quick along the floor as he goes through the motions.

Minseok has had a long day. He doesn’t know what he’s thinking when he presses the button for the metal doors to slide open, and he steps in, watching closer. 

It doesn’t take long for Jongin to realize he’s not alone, moving the staff up into position and turning on his feet in a ready stance, and he smiles quietly at Minseok. It’s almost a smirk, and Minseok can’t help but return it.

“Marshal,” he greets, at ease and bowing. 

“It’s late, Ranger,” he replies, and Jongin gives a little wry smile.

“It’s been a long time,” he says, moving the staff down to stand on the ground between his feet, hands held on top of the other end. “I know we don’t have long until. Until something happens, so, I thought it would be better if I got as many hours of practice in.”

“You haven’t lost your touch,” he says, and Jongin smiles shyly. “Do you think you’re ready to go back in?”

“Not quite sure,” he says honestly. “Drifting is always kind of weird. What more with a totally new partner. But, there really isn’t much of a choice, is there? And, I don’t know if I’m weird for saying this, but drifting, being in a Jaeger. I wouldn’t say it’s really fun. But.”

“It’s home,” Minseok finishes for him. Jongin looks up, and there’s a soft shine in his eyes. 

“Yes. It’s exactly like that,” he says, and his smile is so bright. He’s beautiful, and Minseok tries not to think about it too much. “It’s. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this.”

“And is this a good thing?”

Jongin pauses. “I’m not quite sure. At least, not yet. But being a ranger was the best part of my life for a long time.”

“Do you think it still could be?” he asks. Wants it to be, but it’s not up to him. 

Jongin looks at him, and Minseok watches his gaze grow fond, soft, a little dangerous for them both. “I’d like it to be. I think, that maybe. Yes, it could be. I like myself best in places like this. Makes me feel useful.”

“You were never useless, Jongin.”

“Didn’t feel like it when I was sitting at home and seeing news of all the teams that have fallen,” he says, and Minseok stays quiet. He feels somewhat similar, since Typhoon Ninety had fallen. “Being useful feels good. And I haven’t really had exercise like  _ this  _ in a long time too. It’s fun.”

Minseok smiles, “It does feel good.”

“Do it often, then, Marshal?” he asks. 

“I used to,” he answers. “Once I was promoted to this position however, I didn’t have the time.”

“I was told by Jongwoon that no one could get you down to your knees,” he says. Minseok smiles a little wider.

“I was a good fighter,” he says. “In the Jaeger. In hand to hand combat. I liked it all.”

Jongin gives him a look, contemplative, and. Something akin to challenging. 

He picks up another staff from the pile on the side, and throws it to him. Minseok catches it easily, but he stares at Jongin, the soft grin on his face, and it makes his chest tighten, but it’s light. 

“Jongin. No,” he says, but Jongin is twirling his own staff in his hands, and his stance is ready. Competitive, in the line of the way he steps forward, bends his knees slightly. 

“Just a small spar?” he asks. He spins the staff between his hands, hands lowering to one end as he holds it up, graceful, powerful. “I don’t think there’d be any harm.”

“I don’t do this anymore,” he says, smiling kindly, apologetically.

“Oh? So you don’t fight?” 

“Not really, no,” he answers. Jongin doesn’t waver.

“You can’t? Or you don’t want to fight me?” 

“Don’t push it, Ranger,” Minseok says. Jongin smirks gently, playful.

“I’ll even dial it down for you, if that will help things,” he teases, and Minseok gives him a look, before being stupidly impulsive and shrugging off his leather jacket uniform, testing the staff in his hands, spinning it. It’s not too light, nor heavy; balanced perfectly that he can lift and raise without hardship, but the power is no less present, knows it will have quite the blow.

“Don’t be smart, Jongin,” he says, removing his shoes neatly, and getting into position. He smirks quietly. “Just for fun, yes?”

“For me, yes,” he says, and Minseok just smiles. Then he lunges forward, staff stopping millimeters away from Jongin’s surprised face. 

“1-0,” he says, drawing back, spinning the staff to behind his back, to transfer to his other hand gracefully. “Stay on guard, hmm? First to five?”

Jongin responds with a step forward, bringing his staff to strike Minseok’s side lightning quick. It doesn’t hurt, but it does catch him off guard.

“Sure. 1-1,” he says, beaming. It’s years, miles away from the quiet he’d shown as they walked his dogs, reserved, resigned. Coming more into his own, still somewhat shy, but more. Himself. Less unsure of what he was doing.

Minseok smiles, and he steps forward, tricks him into lunging. Steps off to the side and turning, before landing a hit on Jongin’s back. It’s a hit that’s returned seconds later, when Jongin turns the other way and taps the staff across Minseok’s ass. 

“You proud of what you just did?” Minseok asks, and Jongin laughs, sliding the staff back into his grip, playing around. And, well. It  _ is _ fun. It has been some time since it was.

“What if I am?” he asks, and there is a lightness to his voice that Minseok likes. 

He doesn’t say it, though. Instead, he says, “Alright. That’s enough warming up.” 

And he and Jongin  _ really  _ fight, then. Striking the other and defending blows that come, one after the other. Quick footwork as they spar, Minseok sidestepping the staff as it comes for his neck, and Jongin simply swiping away the stick that comes from the side to punch at his belly. 

As Jongin brings his arms up, Minseok brings the staff up, through his arm, brings him down to the ground. Then Jongin would even it out, bringing him up and knocking him to the ground, stick pointed to his throat to get him to stop. He manages to swipe the staff away from him at one point, brings his own to the back of his feet, sending him spinning in the air before Jongin is on the floor. 

But. When Jongin comes from below and brings his arm to loop between his legs, bringing him down as well, and he’s pinning him into submission, it’s done.

“I think I win?” Jongin says, looking down at Minseok from where he has his leg in a hold, staff behind Minseok’s knee, stretching the leg, and it’s painful, now. 

“I got to 5 first,” Minseok argues, but he taps out regardless, letting him have the last of it. When he lets go, Minseok tries to hide his wince as he sits up, but his knee twinges, and he massages it for a moment, breathing slow.

“I- oh no, did I hurt you?” Jongin asks, kneeling in front of him, eyes wide, lips curled down in his concern, his growing guilt. Minseok tries not to stare too much, focuses on his leg, or the floor, or. Whatever. “Marshal, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he says, and the pain is already fading. Still aches, but nothing he can’t handle. “It’s an old injury. From my last time in a Jaeger.”

“Wh- oh,” Jongin realizes, and he stops. He still kneels meekly, looking apologetic. “I’m still sorry. I should have known.”

“It’s really okay,” Minseok smiles, and he means it. He stands on his own, even helps Jongin along to his feet. “It’s not very serious. I can still fight, even though it’s harder and I have to be more careful.”

“But you still haven’t been back in a Jaeger,” Jongin says. 

Minseok pauses, really thinks if he should say something, before he replies. 

“A broken leg, it’s nothing,” he says slowly. There’s no bitterness in his voice when he continues, just maybe a sad resignedness, “Nothing compared to being linked with someone as they die.”

It’s silent. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he says again, and he smiles. Pats Jongin’s cheek quietly, soft. “And. I still won.”

“I got you to the ground, though,” Jongin smiles back. Not quite the grin he was offering him before, but it’s still something. Something quite beautiful. “I get to tell Jongwoon I got you falling on your ass.”

“I did  _ not  _ fall, I was shoved,“ Minseok says in an airy voice, putting his jacket back on as Jongin laughs again, depositing the staffs away for the night. “But. Yes. It’s been some time.”

“Since what?”

A short pause as he considers his words, before he says, “Since someone had been something of a real challenge.”

Jongin looks at him, initially surprised, then he says, “Maybe it’s just because you haven’t been fighting?”

It’s not that at all. Minseok knows, something like a lightness, and a sinking feeling, all at once, that he and Jongin. They would be drift compatible. Their physical dialogue was proof of that, harmonies that challenged each other, not one ever complacent, just a great physical communication that flowed. 

It is also just another tangible manifestation of how they would be together. Something with so much potential  _ greatness,  _ pure respect. Maybe, even. Something much,  _ much  _ more.

It’s entirely too soon, and Minseok stops himself from overthinking, says, “No. You’re very good, Ranger. Always have been.”

Jongin blinks at the compliment, and there is another pause. As they are closing the room for the night, walking silently back to the quarters, mere feet away from his and Chanyeol’s shared room, when he says, “I hope I get to fight like that.”

“In the Jaeger?” Minseok asks. He shakes his head.

“With Chanyeol,” he says. Minseok’s chest is tight when he realizes, knows that Jongin is aware of what that moment had meant. “I hope. We could have that potential, to be great together.”

Minseok holds his emotions in, says, “You don’t need to worry, Jongin. I know you two are.”

“Well. I can’t have doubts when it’s  _ you  _ who believes it,” he says. He’s too much. 

“Good night, Ranger,” Minseok says instead, nodding quietly to him, and Jongin bows back, shyly, and his cheeks. They’re too flushed, and Minseok credits it to the training. 

“Good night, Marshal,” he says, so softly, and Minseok  _ has  _ to leave. Cannot stay, where his chest pounds and where he wants  _ more  _ but really, truly cannot. 

He doesn’t realize he’s walking in the complete opposite direction of his office, and only registers he’s not where he’s meant to be when he walks through a door, and there are sounds he knows he’s not meant to hear.

“Oh,” he says, blinking when Yixing and Junmyeon jump apart, but the flush of their cheeks, the way Junmyeon can’t look at him, the way they’re both decidedly unclothed and Yixing doing the most he can to block Junmyeon’s nakedness from view, it’s telling. “I’m sorry. I was, um. I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing here, Min,” Yixing says, glaring, and Minseok looks around, blinking still.

“I. I was meant to go to my office,” he says, keeping his frown to himself. “I, where am I?”

There’s a pause, and he doesn’t see the look Junmyeon and Yixing exchange, full of surprise, and then it’s all concern. 

“You’re in the clinic, but nevermind that. Marshal,” Junmyeon says, careful as he comes closer, pulling his coat over himself. Minseok glances, and at least he’s still wearing his pants. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, and he pulls himself together, “Sorry to have interrupted. Um. As you were, even though you really shouldn’t be doing things like this in the clinic. I’ll be heading to my office.”

He makes to leave, but the slight twist and turn, light as they are, is enough to stress his leg, and he closes his eyes, unable to hide his wince. 

“Marshal, are you-”

“I’m fine.”

“Minseok,” Yixing says, and his tone is firm, careful. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” he says, but Junmyeon takes his hand. Leads him to sit down and turns on the other lights, so the whole room is flooded in brightness. He presses on his knee, and Minseok winces again, and Junmyeon sighs. 

“I know I told you the injury wasn’t so bad, but you still have to be careful,” he says.

“I’m sorry,” he concedes easily. Junmyeon stares at him, clearly not used to it. Minseok isn’t exactly defensive, but he does have some pride. Enough that if he were as he usually were, he would have been saying instead,  _ “I was, I didn’t exactly count on being held in a leg lock.” _ What he says out loud, “Been awhile since I’ve trained.”

“You were training?”

“I. I had a small spar, with Jongin,” he says, and Yixing and Junmyeon look to each other for a brief moment. 

“He kicked your ass?” Yixing asks as Junmyeon ice packs his knee, handing him a painkiller.

“I kicked his, first,” he says, taking the pill reluctantly as Junmyeon eyes him down. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Was if it made your leg hurt and got you disoriented enough to not know your way to your office,” Yixing says, and Minseok breathes gently. Tries not to think too much, or at all. 

“We fought well together,” he says, and nothing else.

Yixing and Junmyeon pause, and then they understand. Minseok sighs, suddenly tired.

“Marshal,” Junmyeon starts, but stops, trying to look for the words, but Minseok understands. He doesn’t have them. Truthfully, neither does he himself. 

“Minseok,” Yixing says, and he’s quiet, careful. “It’s been  _ years.  _ And, no one blames you, for what happened. Maybe you should stop blaming yourself too. Let yourself just-”

“Just what?” he says. His chest is pounding. “Let someone else in? And then let them die?”   
“That won’t happen,” Yixing says, and Minseok’s head is pounding too.

“You look at him differently,” Junmyeon says quietly. Minseok’s breath in is sharp. “Like. The way you look at, at Chanyeol, almost.”

“Please stop,” he says, much softer than he intends. It’s enough, Junmyeon and Yixing dropping it, not looking happy but still letting the topic die. “I need to get back to work.”

“Maybe rest tonight, Marshal,” Junmyeon says. He stands, and goes on, “Speaking as your doctor, you’ve been running yourself ragged.”

“Noted,” he says as he stands up, and Junmyeon looks sadly at him. 

“Don’t say that if you’re just going to keep on working,” he says, seeing right through him. Because they’ve known each other for years, and Junmyeon had been there when things fell apart. When he had fallen apart, but he couldn’t show it.

Minseok feels bad, for interrupting them, for dismissing Junmyeon, being dismissive in general. “I’m sorry. Thank you for the advice, but. Things have been less than ideal. I can’t quite take a break, yet. But I promise I will, soon.”

Junmyeon looks at him, frowning slightly, but leaving it at that. Yixing doesn’t stay quiet, though, and tells him, “He knocked you out, didn’t he?”

“I got to 5 points first,” he says, and Yixing shakes his head. And he’s smiling, sad, but still true.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says, and Minseok knows what he means. Yixing doesn’t go in circles, always so straightforward with his words and it makes him a good leader. Makes him a good friend.

But right now. Minseok can’t afford this. Not for Chanyeol, and not for Jongin. 

“As you were,” he says, swallowing any other thought, “Just. Sanitize after.”

“Marshal-”

“Good night,” he nods to both of them, and leaves, heart heavy, mind full. He hopes, truly, that he didn’t ruin the mood for them. Just because he can’t afford it for himself, he hopes, somehow, that some, any amount of love would flourish in the Bay. 

.

He doesn’t know if he should be thankful or burdened or something in between for the amount of work he has to do, the position he’s in doesn’t allow much for rest or fraternizing or anything other than work, that he hasn’t seen Chanyeol, or Jongin, outside of evaluations, watching them train together, fight, getting familiar with one another.

For the week, the most they hear of him is Jongdae saying through the comms the minutes before they begin to do whatever the day’s agenda has set for them to do,  _ “Marshal Kim on deck.” _

He sees the way Chanyeol will lift his eyes to where he knows Minseok is standing, watching. The broadness of his shoulders straightening, eyes bright and breaths steady as he prepares and takes his stance. He sees Jongin, watching him, never not looking at him. Lips soft and set in a soft line that he can’t read, eyes holding so  _ much  _ that Minseok can’t read, or chooses not to, softness that he can’t bear to see.

Neither are any easier on his chest. He cannot want even  _ one  _ of them. Two is out of the question. He doesn’t deserve it, cannot possibly think it.

So he avoids them both, avoids whatever emotions linger, and works.

It gets bad enough that his nose starts bleeding out of nowhere, in the middle of a Jaeger evaluation, and Sehun is alarmed enough that he tries to do CPR, only for Junmyeon to push him aside and sit his ass down in his quarters, tending to his headache and nosebleed.

“Jesus, Min,” he says, dropping formality, and sighing as he mops up the blood. “This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m sorry,” he offers, knowing it’s not enough. “I’m just giving you more stress.”

“Shut up, I don’t care about that,” Junmyeon tells him. His eyes are imploring when he tells him, “Talk to him.”

“Which one?” he says, and. It’s the first time, somewhat, that he’s acknowledging whatever he’s feeling, aloud. He’s tired, and it’s a small relief, saying it. Admitting it, no matter how inadvertently.

“Whoever. Just, please, if in the very least, to give yourself some peace of mind,” Junmyeon says, so concerned, so purely genuine, and it stays with Minseok.

It stays with him, when he’s making the rounds and passes by the test drift facility, and hears soft noises of frustration, and knows who it is inside. 

“Sarah giving you grief?” Minseok asks as he enters the room, and Jongin is removing the helmet, sighing. “It’s hard to drift with her, she’s a picky thing.”

“For a test drift partner, she’s really hard to work with,” Jongin stares hard at the brain encased in the glass dome, connected to the other end of the neural handshake. 

“It’s because she’s  _ old,”  _ Minseok says, smiling gently. “They’ve been using her since before the second wave of Kaijus came in, and even then, she only drifted with a few of us.”

“Oh, so, when you were still a cadet-“

“I would practice drifting, with her,” he says, and he taps the glass around the brain, and smiles quietly. “I was able to drift with her, but only after several attempts. Everyone else simply gave up before they could.”

“You don’t like giving up, do you?” Jongin asks him. 

“Apparently not, otherwise you wouldn’t be here,” he says. And Jongin smiles, eyes crinkling. Immediately endearing. 

“I’m thankful,” he says, and. Minseok thinks about what Junmyeon said, and tries to not close himself off again. 

“I’ll do it with you,” he says, unhooking the console from Sarah’s dome and preparing it for trial, tapping lightly on the screen. 

“Really?” Jongin blinks, but Minseok puts the Pons helmet back over his head, and drives the makeshift drivesuit into place for him. “Will it even work?”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Minseok says, feigning his confidence of just to give Jongin some peace of mind, and he smiles at him as he puts on his own helmet. “Ready?”

Jongin looks at him, and he barely hesitates, glint in his eyes. “Ready, Marshal.”

Minseok breathes the quickest breath, and steels himself. 

He initiates with a press of the button, and drifts, for the first time in years. 

The hook into his spine, locking in and snaking up, crawling into his neck and then into his brain, is a familiar, physical sensation, and the rush of his memories, drifting through his eyes and consciousness is something he remembers well despite the inactivity. 

_ Oh,  _ he hums into the drift, everything familiar but still new, and he looks at Jongin off to the side, who offers him a grin.  _ Well. This is working so far.  _

_ It is,  _ and Jongin is light, excited, pure. He knew it would work, and Minseok smiles as the thought passes, glancing at Jongin, who laughs brightly when he realizes Minseok had heard. They continue, moving in sync, seeings things he had lived through before. 

Jongin’s memories, are new, though, one after the other, passing by, and he sees so many things. Dancing in a room full of mirrors, agile limbs and grace in every muscle, every move. A young Jongin, hand in who must be his mother’s, staring at a display of teddy bears, eyes bright, heart wanting. Jongin as a teenager, training. From a few years later, heart racing as he does a Jaeger drop for the first time, looking to his right, finding assurance in his partner. His father, smiles so similar, and comfort firm in their neural bridge. 

Jongin pauses on one memory, from a few years later still. Dressed in all black, back straight, holding his mother’s, sister’s hands in either of his. Looking down silently on his father’s face again, unmoving, peaceful. 

Minseok swallows, feeling the depth of sadness in Jongin’s chest, the loss, the heavy burden of now being the head of the family, and Minseok knows he can’t move without someone pulling him out. 

“Jongin,” Minseok says softly, and he curls his hand around his shoulder, sees from the side the way his eyes have filmed over with tears. “Jongin. It’s okay. Don’t chase the rabbit. Once is enough. Breathe.”

He sees his chest shudder, feels it. And then Jongin is turning to look at him, cheeks wet, and he nods. Let’s go of his mother’s and sister’s hands and takes Minseok’s, his hands cold, but holding on tightly, surely. 

They keep moving, drifting through their shared memories in the bridge. 

Then, Minseok sees something. And, he can’t help but stop. 

“You don’t need to be so stiff,” someone is beaming at him, chuckling lightly, and Minseok huffs, cheeks pinking as he spins his staff in his hands, stretching his legs and getting into the proper stance. 

“Then stop holding back on me,” he says, and Changmin laughs, twirling his own staff in his hands. 

“Alright, you asked for it,” he says, and he’s lunging, and Minseok barely blocks the hit, swiping him to the right and counter striking, stepping back as Changmin comes forward, bringing down his staff and coming for him, one strike after the other.

“What the  _ fuck,  _ you held back too much,” Minseok bites out as Changmin gets an arm around his neck, putting him in a chokehold, but he manages to jump, flipping over, and Changmin lands flat on his back with a small grunt. 

“Didn’t know if you would be able to handle it,” he says, and Minseok glares. 

“I  _ can.” _

“Good, then show it,” Changmin says, and Minseok strikes first, this time, and Changmin hits back, easily.

It goes on for several minutes, striking at one another and never really landing, blocks decisive and it’s fun, somewhat. One thing after another, challenging each other. 

Minseok dips down, brings his hand in between Changmin’s legs, pulls him down, Changmin landing on the floor and Minseok rolls on top of him, pinning him down. 

“I told you I could,” he says, and Changmin laughs, his eyes so bright and crinkled and smile so wide. Minseok feels his chest just  _ ache  _ with want, want he can’t feel, not for the man who recruited him. 

“You did,” he says, and Minseok releases him, tries to calm his heart as he stands, helps him up, and. For some reason, Changmin pulls him closer, holds him around his waist, and  _ no, no, he can’t know- _

“Hyung?” Minseok looks up, and Changmin’s eyes are so kind, adoring. “Hyung, what is it?”

“Ah. I’m sorry,” he says, “I just. I was just thinking, but I was wrong.”

“Wrong about what?” 

“This,” he answers, and he lets him go. “The way you would look at me, I thought. There was something, the way you feel about me.”

Minseok’s chest pounds. “Hyung. You’re not wrong.”

Changmin looks at him, really looks, and the silence is so thick. Minseok can’t move, feels himself shake a little, and he move past it.

“Is. Is this okay, Minseok?” he's asking, hands coming up to cup his face, his palms warm, and Minseok feels his eyes shine, his heart race. 

“Hyung,” he says softly, and Changmin leans down, kisses him, lips so soft and Minseok trembles in his hold.

He tastes wonderful, gentle, strong. Minseok lets himself be held, cradled in strong arms and Changmin is stable, and he can’t move. Doesn’t want to move.

But, another voice is there. “Marshal.”

_ No. _

“Marshal. Don’t linger. You can’t.”

_ No, please. _

And a hand is holding his, and he closes his eyes. Accepts the pull, and they’re drifting off. 

The neural handshake breaks not long after that, Minseok is pulled out, and he takes a deep breath. Feels hands removing the helmet for him, and when he opens his eyes, Jongin’s looking at him, quiet, a little confused, but not questioning. 

_ “Compatibility confirmed,”  _ the computerized technician of the trial room echoes through the speakers, and Minseok’s chest is light but still burdened, all at the same time. He takes another breath, and Jongin touches him carefully, hands on his biceps. 

“Marshal?” he probes gently, patiently, not expecting an answer. Minseok knows he doesn’t need to, but. 

Jongin had let him into something deeply personal, showed him his vulnerability. The very least he could do was explain. 

“Been so long since I thought about that,” he says, sighing. His chest aches slightly. “That was Changmin.”

“Of  _ Bravo Sun,  _ one of the best Mark 2 pilots,” Jongin says. Minseok blinks, and he adds, “I served with him a couple of times. He’s a good hyung to me. What, um, what-“

“Killmonger happened,” Minseok says, chest aching a little more. “Monstrous Category 3 kaiju, came not much longer after that happened. He and his partner were able to kill it, but. He was injured, badly. Everyone knew it was bad enough that he was out of the game for good. And he didn’t give me a chance to be with him, he told me he didn’t want that life for me, looking after him while I was meant to be here. He just got married recently. The wedding was beautiful. I’m happy for him.”

Jongin’s eyes are shining, lip wobbling, and Minseok tries to smile for him, show him he was okay, because he was. “Don’t, I’m okay. As far as gay awakenings go, I couldn’t have gotten luckier. He still treats me well as a friend.”

It didn’t matter what he said. Jongin still sniffed, stayed quiet, and pulled him in, curling his arms around him, and holding him in an embrace, close, intimate. 

Minseok is stiff for several moments, not knowing what to do, but, eventually, he’s blinking away his own tears, and tucking his face into Jongin’s neck, sighing as he tries to calm himself from the emotional whiplash. 

“I’m sorry I made you go through that,” he says in the quiet, and Jongin shakes his head. 

“I made you go through a  _ funeral,”  _ he says, and Minseok stays quiet, holds him closer. “And that’s a rule. We don’t apologize for what we see in the drift.”

“Right,” he says, if a little blankly. It’s been a while, since he’d had to think of the rules for himself. His heart pauses when he thinks of all Jongin must have seen in his head. Wonders if. 

If he had seen the way he looks at Chanyeol, the way his heart wants him too much. 

If he had seen they way Minseok’s chest just  _ race _ when he had seen Jongin for the first time, dogs entangled at his feet. 

If Jongin had seen any of it, he’s kind enough not to mention it for now, just embracing him, offering comfort, and Minseok is thankful. 

.

It’s a few days later, late at night, late enough that if Minseok weren’t Marshal he would get in trouble for being out in the Shatterdome this late, when he decides to ask Jongin to come with him. Just to sit, feet dangling below the high ledge, bodies leaning against the railing, and staring out at where November Star is standing, proud, roughed around the edges from old battles but new, still, a sheen in her that makes him ache, a strong pull. 

He doesn’t really know why he’d asked Jongin to come with him. But they’ve drifted, even if in just through a simulation. Their minds are linked now, and. He had felt it, heard it, the questions he must have, just a lot unanswered. 

“Are you ready to take her out?” he asks him, and it’s almost rhetorical. He’d seen it in the drift, felt it, but it’s still different, saying it out loud. He offers the small relief to Jongin, and he takes it. 

“Not really, but also, yes?” he says, and he rubs his arm, looking down shyly. As if Minseok wasn’t endeared enough as it was. “I’m not sure if that makes sense.”

“It does,” he assures him, and Jongin gives him a small smile. 

“Do you miss it?” Jongin asks him. “Being in a Jaeger?”

“It’s. It’s a little complicated,” Minseok says, and by the way Jongin looks at him quietly, then stretching his hand out to take, he knows that  _ that memory _ had come up in the drift, strong, but Minseok had fought to move past it, but Jongin understood. 

Minseok sighs, and he takes Jongin’s hand in his. Gives in a little, and his chest feels so much lighter. 

“You don’t quite forget it,” he starts, staring out at November Star. “Being in the drift with someone, connecting so well, and fighting in a  _ Jaeger.  _ You don’t go back, after you have.”

“But  _ we  _ did,” Jongin points out. Minseok smiles a little. 

“Yes, well, we’re here now, aren’t we?” he says, and Jongin looks at him, really looks. And Minseok, he’s always  _ Marshal  _ around here, the fixed point everyone follows. But Jongin, looking at him like this. It makes him feel like he’s  _ more.  _

“Marshal,” he starts, hand tightening his hold slightly. “May I ask you something personal?”

And Minseok knows where this is going to go. He almost says no, not wanting to deal with this, not right now, not with so many things at stake, but. 

He nods, slow, and Jongin takes a deep breath. 

“In the drift,” he starts, choosing his words carefully, “I. I saw something. And, I felt it, too, I think.”

“What did you see?” he says, prodding gently, not wanting him to be too apprehensive, even if he himself is ready to jump out of his skin.

“Chanyeol,” he says, and. Minseok had seen, also, on Jongin’s part, so much of him too. Playing with Jongin’s dog, when they’re playfully sparring, and. He feels it, too. “You. I feel there is an affection for him, on your part.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Jongin blinks rapidly. “I. I saw it, even before the drift, that. You two looked at each other similarly. I’ll stop-“

“No, Marshal, that’s not what I’m asking from you,” Jongin says, and his other hand finds Minseok’s thigh, and Minseok inhaled deeply. 

“Jongin-“

“I also saw, some things. Of me,” he says, and he’s unsure. Pausing between words, staring straight at November Star, sombre in her strong beauty, not looking at Minseok at all. “Just. I don’t want to assume. But I felt something, like. The way you look at Chanyeol. I didn’t want to assume, so I didn’t mention it, but. You saw, in the drift. The way I would look at you. I know you did.”

And Minseok, he did. He saw it, the lingering stares. A familiar ache in his chest, as Jongin, looking at him. He closes his eyes.

“I. I just didn’t want to be wrong, in the way you felt about me. But I could be,” he says. He lets go of Minseok’s hand.

Minseok doesn’t want him to.

He breathes, shaking, and he calms his heart. Remembers.

_ If for anything at all, at least be honest.  _

“You’re not,” he says quietly. He places his hand on Jongin’s thigh, and he feels himself tremble. “You must know, we can’t. I can’t. But, you’re not wrong.”

Jongin looks at him, and surprise is lining his face, but there is a hope that Minseok had hoped he wouldn’t place there. Wants it, but, cannot, will not hurt him. He can’t have him hurt too.

“Marshal?” He sounds so hopeful, and Minseok  _ aches. _

“I. I’m sorry,” he breathes, but when he tries to remove his hand from his leg, Jongin holds on. “I,  _ no,  _ I shouldn’t have-”

“Minseok, hyung,” Jongin says, and. It’s  _ beautiful,  _ and Minseok cannot help but look at him. 

His eyes, filmed over with such hope and tears, and the look on his face, quiet, so full of  _ heart.  _

So, he does not move away when Jongin comes forward, kisses him.

He tastes,  _ feels  _ like light. His mouth soft and languid under his, and Minseok feels so at peace, even for just this moment. He’s not known peace for so long, his eyes sting and his chest  _ aches  _ with the hope he feels blooming in his soul.

He knows he can’t, needs to stop it. But he licks into Jongin’s mouth, small whimpers fed into the kiss from Jongin, sweet and bright in the darkness and the harsh rawness of the Dome around them. 

Jongin clings, moves closer still, until he’s almost in his lap, taking what Minseok offers him. Minseok holds him, arms around his waist, and kisses him deeper, moving his lips against Jongin’s, until their mouths are bruised, and numb.

It’s Jongin who breaks the kiss first, breathing against his mouth and Minseok moves his face, overwhelmed. He feels many things, good, bad, things in between. He feels like crying, but he can’t. He’s the Marshal, he can’t,  _ can’t.  _

“I. I am so particularly weak, when it comes to you,” he says, so quietly. He feels like he’s breaking, a little. “Both of you.”

And Jongin looks at him, because he understands. He’d seen it in the drift. 

“Don’t call it weakness, Marshal,” he says. After a pause, he continues, “It’s not what it is.”

Minseok sighs, unsure of what to say. He says instead, “I’ll walk you back to your quarters, it’s late.”

He knows it disappoints Jongin, sees it on his face, unable to hide, and can almost  _ feel  _ it, as if they were in the drift. But he says nothing, just nods and they stand, walking, hands millimeters from each other, occasionally brushing. Minseok doesn’t move away, but doesn’t take his hand either. It feels a lot like cowardice. 

They’re outside the door, and the late hour ensures that they’re the only ones around. Still, Minseok says in a low, almost inaudible voice, “Jongin. No one can know.”

“I know,” he says. He doesn’t sound like he’s liking it, but there is a resigned tone, signalling that he will follow. “But. When Chanyeol and I drift, he’ll see.”

“When that time comes, then, I will cross that bridge with you,” he tells him, hoping the day would come later, rather than sooner. He looks down, sighing, such heaviness settling on his shoulders.

But. His face is tilted up, and Jongin places his lips on his again, softer, lighter, but it’s an ease, alleviation. Minseok kisses back, and they stand there, together, for many moments.

He doesn’t know what to do. Now, tomorrow, the future. So, he asks Jongin, for clarity, “What would you say it is, then? If it’s not weakness?”

Jongin looks at him. Then, he smiles, just the smallest hint of his lips tilting up, and it’s Minseok’s favorite thing. “Hope, Marshal.”

Minseok breathes. He’s closing his eyes, and Jonging leans down to kiss him again, and he goes on to say, “Like you told me when I first got here. Hope’s gotten you very far.”

“I. I don’t know if it applies to this.”

“Of course it does,” Jongin chuckles at him, and his whole face, his whole being is so bright. He steps away, and Minseok wants him near again, despite himself. “Talk to Chanyeol too?”

It’s a lot to ask, so Minseok just says, “I’ll consider it.”

Jongin gives him a small pout, but doesn’t say more on the matter. Just says, “Good night, Marshal. Thank you, for this.”

_ Thank you, Jongin. _

What he says out loud, “Good night.”

.

He dreams about him, after years of not doing so. Of years trying to forget and repent. 

The last moments in the drift. Of  _ happiness,  _ the lightest it has ever been, then  _ fear,  _ hopelessness, then. Nothing. Aching, silent. 

Minseok wakes, heart in his throat, face wet, and everything is dark. 

He doesn’t allow himself tears, just short breaths, and many thoughts swirl about in his mind. 

He doesn’t know what it all means.

.

“You look like you’re about to pass out, boss,” Baekhyun notes frankly as he’s sweeping up Kaiju entrails off Kyungsoo’s side of the laboratory, Kyungsoo’s glare following him as he scrambles up after his mess. 

“Do you have any new findings for me, Byun,” Minseok says, ignoring his remark. He hasn’t been sleeping well, but no one needs to know, if he’s doing just fine. 

“Jongin is advancing well, and his test results from a few trial drift sessions came back promising,” Kyungsoo tells him, fixing his glasses. He looks at Minseok carefully too, but doesn’t say anything. “Chanyeol, well.”

“What about Park?” he prods, trying to keep his voice neutral, but they both blink at him, and he knows they’ve seen right through him.

“He’s. Well, Jongdae’s working on it,” Kyungsoo says, and Minseok sighs. 

“In any other case, I’ve been updating the Jaegers with some new nifty things,” Baekhyun says, waving a little to get attention, “So they’re super Kaiju-proof now. Or mostly Kaiju-proof. I mean, if a Kaiju were to appear and attack and the Jaeger does nothing, well the Jaeger would still get smashed to itty bitty pieces, so it’s not-”

“Byun, please, we both know I’m running on very little sleep,” he says, sighing even louder, “Go straight to your point.”

“Right, sorry Marshal, but like I was saying,” he drives on through without pause, and Minseok wants to sigh, but Kyungsoo does it for him instead. “Soo and I have been developing these jet thrusters,  _ super  _ cool, so we’re modifying the Jaegers with flight abilities. And I’ve been putting in some new codes so that the Jaegers can track Kaijus themselves with radar and shit and not have to depend on visibility-”

“You should have started with that, Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo says, and he’s ignored.

“Also, for November Star,” he starts, pulling up a holographic blueprint and highlighting the double core nuclear reactor, “Dae and I have been working on that auto override like you told us to, but-”

“Marshal,” someone is knocking on the doors, and the three of them look towards the source. Jongdae is standing, eyes wide, and looking a little stressed. 

Jongdae hardly ever looks stressed, so it’s enough to alarm Minseok into saying, “Jongdae? What is it?”

“Chanyeol,” is all he says. And it’s enough. 

Minseok follows him out the lab, and through the halls, until they’re making their way to the test drift facility, and inside, Junmyeon and Yifan are struggling to remove the Pons helmet off of Chanyeol, who is making  _ awful  _ noises of despair, arms thrashing, and Minseok is devastated, looking at him.

He swallows this, and he walks in, disengaging and unhooking the other end of the neural handshake from Sarah’s dome, and turning off all the machines. It does little to calm Chanyeol, who wails as Yifan manages to pull off the helmet from his head, and he’s crying, big rolling tears falling down his face, and Junmyeon is kneeling, wiping his face, trying to get him to respond.

“Chanyeol,” he says repeatedly, and Chanyeol keeps crying, so much. His whole body is shaking, and his hair is matted down to his forehead with sweat. Guilt. “Chanyeol, you’re back, it’s okay-”

It makes it worse. He sobs louder, trembles harder, and he falls to his knees, curling in on himself, and he’s clawing at his shoulders, hard, as if he wants to scratch into his skin. 

Minseok breathes deeply. He knows this emotion, intimately. And it’s with this thought, this familiarity and ache that he says, “Leave us.”

Junmyeon, Yifan, and Jongdae look at him, eyes wide, and Jongdae is saying, “Marshal-”

“Leave us,” he repeats, and Junmyeon looks apprehensively at him.

“We can help,” Junmyeon says, but Minseok looks at him. Lets his guard down, and allows his true emotions to show, just enough, for him to read.

_ You can’t,  _ he says with a small shake of his head,  _ Not this one. It can’t be anyone else but me. _

Junmyeon looks at him, carefully, for a very long time, Chanyeol’s cries making the room cold. And he’s sighing, acquiescing, and he nods, “Then we’ll take our leave.”

“What?” Yifan and Jongdae say, looking at him, but he shakes his head at them, before squeezing Chanyeol’s shoulder once, and he’s leaving the room. Yifan and Jongdae follow, not without curious, confused glances at Minseok, but he merely nods at them as they walk out, only looking towards where Chanyeol is on the floor, hunched in on himself and crying, not stopping.

Minseok takes a deep breath, and he makes his way over to where Chanyeol is crouched in on himself on the floor, and he leans down, carefully prying his fingers from where they’re biting into his shoulders.

“Chanyeol, you’re hurting yourself,” he says quietly, but Chanyeol shakes his head, sobbing. 

“Leave me alone,” he cries, and Minseok’s soul shakes at the despair in his voice. “I, I deserve this.”

Minseok shakes. “No, you don’t.”

“I  _ let her die,”  _ he says, and he’s looking up at him then. His whole face is tear sodden, his eyes red, and he looks so utterly  _ devastated,  _ and Minseok is weak. “I let her die, I-”

“You  _ didn’t,”  _ he says, says it with every conviction. “You couldn’t have controlled what happened, it’s not your fault.”

“But it is,” he says, crying anew, closing his eyes and breath shaking, nails biting down on his shoulders, on Minseok’s fingers where they’re still trying to pry them away from hurting him. There is a slight sting on where Chanyeol’s nails bite down on his hand, but Minseok says nothing. “If I were just  _ good enough-” _

Everything hurts. Minseok  _ aches, _ hearing Chanyeol speak about himself this way. Wanting nothing more than to alleviate his pain, in any way he can.

“I could have protected her,” Chanyeol says, grief made fresh. “I, I couldn’t protect her. In the drift, it. I should have done more.”

He cries, and Minseok lets him. Realizes too late that this is something he can’t help with, not now. Not in the ways he thought he could, and in the drift, it will be worse. So, he just comes down, getting down to Chanyeol’s level, and lets him cry, waiting there with him. 

He’s unsure of how much time they spend, on the floor, crying and waiting, before Chanyeol’s tears subside, and he stops trembling slightly. His grip loosens, and Minseok carefully removes his hands, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen when he sees the marks he’d left on his fingers. 

“Marshal, I’m sorry,” he says, voice trembling, but Minseok shakes his head, stopping him. 

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt,” he says, and he pauses. And he decides not to think too much, or hold himself back, because Chanyeol needs comfort more than he needs to be his superior, right now. 

He takes Chanyeol’s limp hands in his, and Chanyeol looks up at him, eyes wide, shocked somewhat, but Minseok softly sweeps his thumbs over his skin, trying to give him any bit of relief he can provide. 

Chanyeol’s eyes water again, and he closes his eyes, slumping forward slightly. His hold on Minseok’s hands tightens, and his voice shudders when he says, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Minseok tells him, but Chanyeol is shaking his head. 

“You and I both know that’s not true,” he says. “I’ve caused. A lot of trouble. Too much.”

“It’s not-“

“Marshal. I know you kissed Jongin,” he says. 

Minseok freezes. He doesn’t remove his hands, but he stops tracing circles onto Chanyeol’s skin. 

“I fail to see where that is relevant here,” Minseok says calmly. Chanyeol huffs a little, wrenching his hands away, forcefully wiping his tears away from his face. Minseok tries to reach for him, stop him from being so rough, but he doesn’t let him touch him. And Minseok won’t lie, the rejection stings more than he lets on. 

“You don’t have to pretend to care about me,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok feels like he’s been slapped. 

“Chanyeol. I do-“

“But you kiss him and ignore what I won’t hide from you?” he says, and his tone is less than kind. 

Minseok knew, had seen the way Chanyeol looked at him. He wasn’t blind to the way Chanyeol he looked at him with such a strong affection, but the situations are different. 

“That’s not it,” he says, but Chanyeol brushes him off. Minseok breathes quietly, reminding himself that this is what happens, after particularly stressful drifts. And with Chanyeol’s memories, what he’s endured and continues to go through, Minseok cannot blame him, for the way he’s acting. 

But, it doesn’t make the sting any less felt. 

“You always say that,” Chanyeol says, voice bitter. “Always giving excuses.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop, just stop it,” he says, despaired. He sounds broken, and Minseok is close to breaking himself. “I just. I want  _ too much.  _ And I thought you did too, but it’s typical. I’ll never be it.”

He’s thoroughly wrong. “Chanyeol-“

“I’m not good enough,” he says. Minseok can’t, and he takes his face in his hands, making him look up, but Chanyeol struggles away. 

“Chanyeol,” he tries again, but he’s not listened to, again. 

“I’m not good enough. Not for this program,” he says, clawing at his hair. “Not good enough for this position. Not good enough for this mission.”

He goes on, and on, words unbearable, and Minseok is crumbling, watching him. He thinks  _ the world  _ of him, and it is nothing short of painful. 

“I’m not good enough. How could I, then, be good enough for  _ you,”  _ he says, fight leaving his body as he collapses into himself, and this time, the tears are silent, resigned, defeated. 

Minseok is shattered, devastated in every sense. 

“Chanyeol,” he says, voice less stable, heart weak. “Please. Please don’t say that. It’s. It’s not true.”

Chanyeol doesn’t speak, just huddling into himself, crying quietly. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, not knowing what else to say anymore. Feeling like a failure, for being unable to do this. “I. I’m sorry.”

He feels wholly inadequate, and he doesn’t know what to do. Sits with Chanyeol as he cries, and he tries again, carefully. Brings his hands up to cup Chanyeol’s face gently, and slowly tilts his face up, until Chanyeol’s wet,  _ beautiful  _ face is looking at him, tired but wanting. 

And Minseok. He lets it go. “Please. Please don’t say that. None of it is true. We  _ need  _ you. And. I’m certain that  _ I  _ am the one not good enough for your affections.”

Chanyeol’s lip wobbles, and Minseok cannot take it. Wants him comforted, wants him to feel better. 

“No, Chanyeol, don’t,” he says, trying to sooth, wiping his tears, softly assuring him. And he kisses him. 

The smallest touch of his lips to Chanyeol’s, barely a thought, and. Minseok freezes, and Chanyeol’s eyes widen. 

“I,” he tries to start, but he has no words. And with the way Chanyeol looks at him, still tired but brighter, searching, so  _ hopeful  _ and beautiful and Minseok feels  _ everything.  _

He’s no longer Marshal, Chanyeol’s superior who has to be stronger than what he is for everyone, doing what’s best for the Bay. Now, even for the briefest moment, he’s just Minseok, unsure, wanting, too hopeful than what he feels is allowed. 

Chanyeol, beautiful lovely boy, gives him the reprieve he doesn’t deserve but craves and yearns for so much. Tilts his head up and leans in, and his lips on his are soft, salty with tears, and tasting of hope and too much acceptance. 

Minseok whimpers, and for once. Accepts what is offered so lovingly to him. 

He parts his lips and Chanyeol licks in, and he’s soft but hungry, kissing and kissing him, deeper and moving his lips against his. 

It’s like the warmth of a fire, burning bright and hot and Minseok cannot, will not move away. Chanyeol hands anchor him, touching his chest and Minseok holds his waist and grips tight as their tongues swipe together, more fiercely with each second. 

“Min, Minseok,” Chanyeol mumbles, moans quietly as Minseok licks at his bottom lip before nibbling gently, and take it into his mouth and sucking. His name is pretty on his lips. 

“Baby,” it slips out of Minseok’s mouth too easily, without any true thought, and Chanyeol melts for him, easily lulled into his touch, opening his mouth even wider and letting Minseok in deeper, until all he can taste is him. 

“Please,” Chanyeol whimpers, holding him, pulling him closer, and. 

It’s relief and acceptance and Minseok doesn’t deserve it, but Chanyeol gives it to him without pause, without conditions. 

He’s entirely beautiful and Minseok is the one who is not enough.

He draws himself away, slow, and Chanyeol doesn’t stop him. The look on his face is understanding, but gently heartbroken. 

He speaks first when Minseok cannot, not sure of how to break the silence he caused, “Marshal. I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t be. He has no reason to, and Minseok breathes to himself. He’s every bit a coward, always doing  _ this,  _ giving them too much hope and leading them on when he knows he cannot give Chanyeol, Jongin the life they deserve, but he speaks true when he tells Chanyeol quietly, “No. You shouldn’t be sorry. I, we both wanted this.”

Chanyeol looks at him. Minseok’s chest is so  _ warm,  _ strengthened with the brightness of Chanyeol’s eyes, shining but not with sad tears, and a smallest part of his lips, the barest hint of a smile. It is something, a little treasure Minseok keeps for himself.

And Chanyeol gives him more. Leans up, pressing their mouths together, already sensitive from the kisses earlier, and Minseok breathes him in, feeling everything, heart pounding and calm altogether. 

.

“You’re late, Marshal.”

“Sorry Myeon, I had a headache,” he says, everyone in the room standing a little straighter when they see him come in, and he feels Junmyeon stare at him, the concern bright in his eyes.

“Headache? Why didn’t you come to me,” he says under his breath. “Minseok, this has been recurring-”

“Just overworked, Dr. Kim,” he says, giving him a small shake of his head,  _ ‘Not now. It’s not important.’ _

Junmyeon looks at him, almost a glare, but he backs down, sighing when Minseok clears his throat, says to the room at large, “Alright. I apologize for not being prompt. Park, Kim. On the floor.”

Mostly everyone is present today. Zitao, Sehun standing near the wide arch entrance to the sparring room, hands linked and silent, and they used to be so noisy, lively, and they still are with the rest of the Bay. But with each other, with as many years they’ve been linked together, they don’t need it, the small touch enough of an understanding. Yixing and Yifan are standing off the side of the viewing deck a few steps above the sparring mat, and Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, Jongdae are across the room, on the other side of the square mat, other technicians and researchers and scientists and cadets standing behind them, filling the room. 

Chanyeol steps down on to the mat, shoes off, the muscles of his broad shoulders slightly tense, but he looks up at where Minseok stands. Their eyes meet, and Minseok’s gaze softens for him, and Chanyeol releases the breath he’d been holding in, and he’s still nervous, but there is more lightness in his steps. 

Since that night, he had been calmer. They didn’t kiss again, but Minseok stopped completely avoiding him, and when they see each other, Chanyeol stands close, not quite reaching for his hand, but his hand hangs low enough, near enough, that their knuckles might brush against each other. And Minseok doesn’t stop him. He still had difficulties drifting with Sarah, but the memories, the anxiety attacks were not as harsh, and Minseok was there, each time, to stay and wait with him until he would be calm.

Jongin’s smile is warm when he looks at Minseok, and he’s not quite relaxed, but there is a grace in his motions, and Minseok knows he’ll do well. Feels the warmth in his soft smile making him that slightest bit better, and he has a lot of hope for them.

And he sees it, in the way Jongin turns to look at Chanyeol, and his smile is still gentle, reassuring, and Minseok watches as he speaks, unable to hear, but Chanyeol looks to him, and smiles back. Slightly crooked, unsure, but the brightness in his eyes is a sure thing. 

He’s more than sure this will work.

He steps down to the mat, bo staffs in hand, and he gives one to either of them. He sounds steadier than he feels when he tells them, “Remember. This is about drift compatibility. A dialogue.”

“Not a fight,” Jongin says, and Minseok glances at him. His smile is the slightest bit wider, a little jittery, but. Almost excited.

He nods, and says, “Four strikes mark a win. I’ll be keeping a close eye.”

“So will everyone else,” Chanyeol says quietly, trying to not look around the room, see who’s watching.

Minseok steps in the slightest bit closer, waits until Chanyeol is looking at him, wanting to do more but cannot in the room full of spectators.

“You will do phenomenally,” he says, voice low, gentle. He looks to both of them, and he tells them, “I believe in you both. You will do well.”

They look at him, then glance at each other, then back to him. And when Chanyeol speaks, Minseok understands that it’s for Jongin as well, when he says, “For you, Marshal. We will.”

Minseok shakes his head slightly, but steps away, and goes back to his perch, feeling a lot. 

He breathes. Says to the many in the room, but looking to the two on the mat, looking only to him, waiting for instruction, “Whenever you two are ready.”

It takes a while. Mostly, Jongin and Chanyeol size each other up carefully the first minute or so, moving around with their staffs and getting into position. And they begin.

They’re so different from one another. Jongin is fluid, graceful but his hits land hard, and Chanyeol is somewhat more stiff, but more careful on his feet, motions thought out and firm, solid. 

They fight well together, balancing each other out, so different in movements but still reasonably well matched. When Jongin glides and spins away and manages a strike across Chanyeol’s shoulders, he is countered back when Chanyeol boldly holds steps forward and grabs him, making them tumble to the ground, and he traps him in.

It’s a close fight throughout, and their nervousness melts away quickly, and they fight well, and as Minseok watches, he even catches the small grins Jongin has on his mouth, and Chanyeol’s tenseness turns into ease. 

Their audience is generous with applause and noises of awe, and Minseok steals a glance at Yixing, who looks on with approval, impressed and relieved, somewhat. He turns to look at Junmyeon, who’s concern for him hadn’t diminished, but when he nods, Minseok knows it’s going well.

They will drift beautifully. 

He watches them spar, and is reminded of when he and Jongin had done the same, not too long ago, on an impulse. How he and Jongin fought so differently from they way Jongin and Chanyeol are fighting now, but they fit so well. One strike countered with another and complementing each other, in styles and motions and when they both fall back down to the ground, it’s hard to tell who had gotten to four strikes first. It doesn’t matter, because Minseok had known from the first minute that drift compatibility would not be an issue for these two.

Everyone wins.

“That’s enough,” he says amidst applause from the people surrounding them, as he steps down to the mat and Jongin and Chanyeol are pulling each other to their feet. They looked slightly worn out, but light. Chanyeol even smiles at Jongin as he breathes deeply, catching his breath from the sparring. 

There is a palpable air around them, and Minseok isn’t surprised in the least when Jongin pulls Chanyeol in for a hug, sweaty and warm, but Chanyeol doesn’t shy away from it. He melts, almost, and holds him back, tucking his face into Jongin’s neck.

There are too many people in the room, so he looks to Yixing, and he understands instantly. 

“Alright, that’s enough spectacle for the day. Back to your stations,” Yixing says for him, and he’s herding out Sehun and Zitao despite their whining, and Yifan follows them out as the people in the room disperse, until the only other people left in the room are Kyungsoo, Baekhyun, Jongdae and Junmyeon. 

“How’d that feel?” he asks them quietly now that they are more or less private, but still keeps his voice down, low enough that the others remaining in the room aren’t privy to their answers. 

They pull away from each other, but they stand close, and Minseok knows that something between them had shifted. He feels wholly inadequate. 

“It. It felt good,” Chanyeol is who answers him first, a little surprise. He looks at him, and he can see it in his eyes that he’s being honest. He’s not quite smiling, but the tilt of his lips suggests that he feels better than he has in a long time. 

“Yeah, it was fun,” Jongin says, and he’s more open with his emotions, truthful.

Minseok’s seen everything he’s needed to see, to confirm that they would be good drift partners, but he’d known from the moment he’d met Jongin, that things would find their place once he found himself here. And they are.

And, maybe, he has no place here, where it’s more than clear that they are enough, for each other. 

“Good. That’s good,” he says, keeps moving forward. Marshal Kim Minseok, not much room for anything else but to keep working. And this is a good thing; one step closer to what should be their final missions. For the war to end, for true calm and peace to become a reality. He’s happy. He found Chanyeol a partner, he’s happy. “Please report to the lab for evaluation, and to the medical bay for post trial assessment. If the reports come back positively, then we can schedule the drift trials promptly. Rest up, good work.”

“Marshal,” Jongin says as he turns to leave, and Minseok tries not to be too expressive. He’s feeling too many things and he’s unsure of what might be read on his face.

He turns to look at them again. Bright eyes are on his, and he sees hope. He feels a little choked. “I am immensely proud. That you are my Rangers. That you are trusting us.”

They look at him, and Chanyeol tells him, “Trusting  _ you,  _ Marshal.”

Minseok feels his heart break a little. “Dr. Do and Dr. Byun will lead you to the laboratory. I’ll see you both later.”

They both nod, and he makes to leave the room as Kyungsoo, Baekhyun and Jongdae move forward at his signal to bring them over for evaluations, but Junmyeon follows him out, and is quiet until the hall clears, and they are alone as Junmyeon leads him to the clinic. Minseok is forced to follow, the hand Junmyeon hand on his wrist unfaltering, and he’s much too exhausted to fight him, head pounding unpleasantly. 

“You look like shit,” he says, forcing Minseok down on a chair, rummaging about his supplies. 

“I’m fine,” he says, but still taking the painkiller Junmyeon gives him. 

Junmyeon looks at him sternly, says as he gulps it down, “This is just a temporary fix, Min. You know that. You need to  _ sleep.  _ Actually rest.”

“I’m fine,” he tries to repeat, but Junmyeon scoffs. 

“Stop lying to me. You haven’t been sleeping,” he says. He’s angry, but. He’s more concerned, scared for him. 

And it’s with look that Minseok admits to him quietly, reluctantly, “When I sleep. The dreams have been relentless, these days. His face, the fear. I can’t bear it.”

Junmyeon makes a small noise of despair, and pleads, “Minseok, please, get some rest. What you’ve been through, it’s hard, but we need you strong. I know that’s burdensome, but. I don’t know what to tell you. I am afraid for your well being.”

Minseok closes his eyes, breathing quietly, feeling awful. Tells him, “Thank you, Junmyeon. You are kinder than I deserve.”

Junmyeon looks at him, considering. “Tell them.”

Minseok’s face heats up, and his chest feels too tight. “Jongin knows. He and I, we have drifted. He has seen.”

Junmyeon looks confused. “When?”

“Not too long ago,” he says. He’s desperate for the painkiller to start giving him some relief. Wants to stop thinking so much. 

“And Chanyeol?” Junmyeon asks him. Minseok’s head aches a little harder. 

“It’s better, surely, if I didn’t tell him. At least for now,” he says. He knows he must, Chanyeol deserves to know, but. It wasn’t the right time, with so much at stake. “If he knew, if we drifted together, I don’t know if I would be able to pull us out of it.”

“You don’t think he is strong enough to help you do that?”

Minseok looks at Junmyeon, and feels his face flush, heart drop. “That’s not-“

“You have to let people in, Min,” he says. “You  _ can _ depend on them a little. And he is stronger than you think.”

Minseok knows this. But he’s not doing a good job of acknowledging it, he realizes. 

He leaves the clinic sometime later, head a little clearer but his chest tighter. He makes his way to Chanyeol’s and Jongin’s rooms to remind them to report to Junmyeon for their post trial checkup, and he comes in. Realizes he should have knocked. 

Jongin and Chanyeol are sitting on their respective beds facing each other, but are leaned towards one another, lips locked together in a gentle kiss, moving softly and Minseok pauses when he sees them. And they are  _ wonderful _ together, beautiful, giving and taking in equal measure, and Minseok could never,  _ never,  _ compare, come between them.

He can’t think of this, anymore. They are enough for each other. 

“My apologies, I should have knocked,” he says, bowing slightly. They pull apart, and they both stare at him, eyes wide, their cheeks similarly pink; they are achingly beautiful, and Minseok feels a little more destroyed. 

“Marshal,” Chanyeol stands, and there is an expression on his face akin to want, maybe helplessness. Desperation. Minseok doesn’t know what to make of it. 

“I just wanted to check on you both,” he says, and he does his utmost so that there is little hint of weakness, of  _ Minseok  _ in his voice. That all they will hear is  _ Marshal,  _ as it should have been from the beginning. 

“Marshal,” Jongin looks at him, blinking, and Minseok sees the worry in his eyes. How he can tell something isn’t right. 

“I see you’re both doing well,” he smiles, and it’s pained, but he means it. Just because it cannot happen for him, doesn’t mean he should hinder them. He wants something beautiful for them. 

They both stare at him, slightly alarmed, and Chanyeol tries to step forward towards him. Minseok doesn’t step back, but he bows his head slightly, telling them, “You both have done marvelously. Thank you for your hard work. You should get some rest, it must have-“

“Are you going to tell us what’s bothering you?” Chanyeol says, his words hard and quick, and Minseok pauses, chest still. He looks up, and he sees the blazing,  _ sad _ shine in his eyes. Looking so confused, and Jongin still sitting on his bed next to him, looking at Minseok with a similar, but sadder expression. 

He breathes slowly. Answers, “Nothing is bothering me.”

“Marshal. If you’re just going to pretend what we did the other day didn’t happen at all, then please stop playing with my feelings,” Chanyeol says, and he sounds and looks close to tears. “With  _ both  _ of our feelings,” he adds, quietly, and Jongin looks at him, his eyes wet as well. 

Minseok doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know what he  _ can  _ say. Everything feels strange, adding to his already heavy chest. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers, not nearly enough. “I. All I have ever done is hurt your both. It, I think, it would be better-“

“Don’t,” Jongin says, and he reads the controlled, but pained pauses of Minseok’s voice too well. He looks just about devastated. 

Minseok feels the same way. But he knows it’s for the best when he forces himself to continue and tell them, “It would be better, if. If the two of you. You’re enough for each other, I shouldn’t-“

“We’re not,” Chanyeol states at him. He looks drained, so sad. Minseok made him look like that, and it’s another thing he can’t stop thinking about. “We both like you,  _ so much.” _

It’s verbal confirmation of what Minseok has known and tried to ignore. He closes his eyes, doesn’t want to see the sad lines of Jongin’s plush mouth, or Chanyeol’s pinched expression, trying to hold back his tears. 

He can’t feel this way. He can’t let that small bubble of elation, of  _ want  _ in his chest flourish and grow. He can’t. 

He wants them both. He’s always known this. From the moment he had met Chanyeol, from the moment he had met Jongin. 

But. He cannot. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. 

“Please don’t do this,” Chanyeol pleads, and he sounds so quietly despaired. Minseok’s heart breaks.

“I’m sorry,” he offers, much too little. “I’m just. Baggage.”

“We’re willing to accept much more than you think,” Chanyeol tells him, and there is so much  _ love  _ in his eyes, and Minseok is almost weak enough to give in, give them what they want, and give in to what he wants.

But he remembers the darkness, the terrified silence, and the nothingness.

So, he says, resigning to keep his voice blank, “I’m sorry, Rangers. As you were.”

Chanyeol stares at him,  _ shattered,  _ tears running down his cheeks, and Jongin stands, crying as well, in his eyes a silent plea, but Minseok makes himself leave. Makes himself do what he needs to do, make them hate him now so even though it hurts now, it won’t be devastating later on. 

It doesn’t make things easier, doesn’t make him feel much better.


	2. ii: this way, call my name

He does his best to move on. Keeping the Bay in shape, meetings and planning and watching it all. He still can’t get much sleep still feels sick to his stomach and tight in the chest whenever he sees Chanyeol or Jongin, which is often. He doesn’t miss the hurt in their eyes, but more than that, the  _ hope,  _ the  _ longing  _ they still have, not diminished after everything that had transpired. Even, maybe, strengthened and amplified by his rejection.

He wishes he were good enough for them.

“So with these changes, I’ve calculated that - Marshal?”

Kyungsoo ducks his head, eyes wide and blinking slowly as he tries to get Minseok’s attention.

Minseok blinks, head fuzzy, before he shakes himself off, and clears his throat, saying, “My apologies, Dr. Do. Please continue.”

“Boss, I know I might be the last person you want to hear this from,” Baekhyun walks over, plopping on a stool in front of him and pressing a palm against Minseok’s forehead, ignoring the glare Minseok gives him. “But, you look really, really,  _ really  _ tired. You should be taking it easy.”

“I’m fine,” he says, sighing, appreciating that they’re looking out for him. “But I can’t rest. There’s still so much we need to do.”

“Marshal, we know. That things have not been the easiest,” Kyungsoo starts, “And we know you’re strong. But even though a lot of things are happening, and it might not seem to be a priority to you, we still don’t want you hurt. Not just in the physical sense.”

Minseok doesn’t speak. His eyes sting slightly, and he closes them, breathing deeply. 

“Thank you. But I’m fine,” he reiterates. He sighs, and he stands, and the lateness of the hour is getting to all of them. Kyungsoo is taking off his glasses, rubbing at his eyes, and Baekhyun leans his head on top of the nearest desk’s surface, pouting as he tries to blink the sleepiness away. Minseok doesn’t so much sway on the spot as he gets his bearings, but he steps back, balancing himself from the lack of sleep. 

He looks up at the clocks on the wall. The regular clock on the left, hands showing it’s past two in the morning, and the miniature War Clock on the right, counting down the weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds until the next Kaiju attack. Until the last mission. 

They have less than six days left. Minseok can’t breathe easy.

“I’ll wake myself up a bit, I’ll be back in half an hour,” he tells them, and they both nods, waving him off as he leaves their office. 

Waking himself means many different things. It used to be copious amounts of coffee, but it had lost any effect when his body had acclimated after so many years of drinking caffeine. It also reminds him too much of the nights before Typhoon Ninety had been destroyed, late nights out on the Bay, just staring up at their Jaeger together. Smiling. Being together wordlessly. 

It used to be working out. But he knows Chanyeol haunts the gym and facilities, and he wants to give him a little peace. 

So, he decides to go to the showers to feel a little more refreshed, get the day’s grime off of him and get a little more clean. 

He puts his clothes in his locker, undressing quickly and taking his towel with him, and leaves to enter the shower room, but realizes that even in this late hour, it’s not empty. The lights are on at the far corner of the room at the last few stalls, the water running, and he blinks to himself. He realizes with a sharp sensation in his chest that it’s Jongin, head tilted back and letting the spray of water run down his throat, his naked torso, and he breathes slowly, turning to look away and enter the nearest stall. 

The water at the end stops when he turns his on, and he closes his eyes, trying to focus on the warmth of the water running down his back, down his head, trying to not be so hopeless, so weak.

“Marshal,” Jongin says, realizing he’s not alone, and Minseok keeps quiet, but turns his head to look at him. His eyes are gentle, as they always are, and his hair slicked back and the bit of his body Minseok can see, wet and lithe and beautiful. Minseok takes a deep breath, and gives him a small smile, a small nod to acknowledge him there, before he goes back to staring at the tiles of his stall, trying to be stronger than he is.

“Why are you still awake?” Jongin asks him. He sounds even more quiet than usual, but still so kind, much more than Minseok deserves after what he had said to them.

“I should be asking you that, Ranger,” he says, keeping his tone light, but keeping the distance between them. 

It’s silent as he washes his hair, and he thinks Jongin is taking the hint. 

But, as he turns off the spray and begins to soap and wash his body, Jongin says in a low tone, “I haven’t been able to sleep, so I’ve been working out and training instead.”

Minseok looks up, and Jongin is already looking. He looks so sad. “You should be getting rest, Ranger. You will need your energy for the remaining trials, and-”

“Marshal,” Jongin says, and he sounds so gentle, so  _ kind,  _ longing still. Minseok feels his chest ache. “I. I’m sorry, if we had done anything to offend or hurt you.”

“Jongin-”

“But. What you said about yourself the other day,” he says, sounding so crestfallen, “we. We didn’t like it. I know you’re scared, but please don’t choose for us. We wouldn’t be better without you. We want you.”

Minseok closes his eyes again, everything aching a little more. He turns on the shower again, hoping the hot water will make everything a little more numb, but he still feels it all. “I’m a lot to deal with.”

“And what have we done to make you think we aren’t willing to help you, even a little?” Jongin says, and the tears are straining his voice, and Mineok bows his head, full of regret, sorrow. “Marshal. Minseok. You know how I feel about you. And Chanyeol, he’s never not been honest with what he feels about you, either. We’re baggage too. But we’re doing all this,  _ for you.  _ Because you made us hope for something better.”

“I’m sorry,” Minseok says. He feels like crying. His chest feels endlessly heavy and the water does nothing to soothe like he had hoped. “I. I know I hurt you both. I’m sorry.”

“We know you’re having a hard time,” Jongin says, still sounding too kind for what Minseok knows he deserves, “And I know you also don’t want us to get hurt. But you have to give us a little more credit. We know it won’t be easy. But we just want  _ you.  _ We would work hard, for you.”

“I’m sorry,” he just repeats, unable to look up, unable to dissipate the guilt in his soul. “I. I’m afraid all I’ve done is hurt you both. I keep messing up. I’m, I think I’m too weak. I know I told you that hope is what had taken us this far, but. I’m beginning to think that hope isn’t meant for me, after all.”

It’s quiet, and he suffers alone under the stream of water, steady and burning. He doesn’t think of the night he lost everything, of love admitted and instantly lost, and he knows he deserves this. Deserves so much pain. 

Then, he’s no longer alone in the stall, arms coming to wrap around his chest, and Jongin’s naked body is warm behind his, wet and hot and Minseok doesn’t move, but doesn’t push him away. He cannot, because he wants him there too.

“Minseok,” he says gently, and Minseok so badly wants to sink into him, wants to let himself just give in. “Please don’t say that.”

Minseok breathes in, breath coming out in shudders, and Jongin’s lips are soft on his shoulder, on his neck, and him being so near, it’s a small torture. 

“Jongin, we can’t,” he says, but Jongin sniffs near his ear, before kissing behind it, then kissing his cheek, lips lingering. Minseok shakes. 

“Please, please.” Jongin pleads. “Please don’t be so cruel to yourself.”

“I have to be,” he says, and Jongin makes a soft, sad noise.

“No, you don’t,” Jongin makes him turn, and he’s  _ beautiful,  _ his body lean but defined and warm against Minseok’s, and he leans his head against his, gentle, gentle. His hands are soft as he rubs against Minseok’s chest, cleaning him, comforting him, and his palms are hot as they glide down to his stomach, across his ribs. Minseok feels his resolve melt, his body glow from the inside, though he knows he can’t let it. But Jongin is tilting his chin up, and placing his lips over his and kissing him, and Minseok feels the softness overwhelm him, the warmth that he craves and yearns for, offered to him unselfishly by Jongin’s lips.

Minseok can’t help it. Wants him,  _ so much,  _ loves him. Loves them both.

“You can rely on us. It might not be much, but we care about you so much. It hurts us, seeing you suffer,” Jongin says, kissing him again, his lips softer and he’s licking into his mouth, against his tongue, and Minseok whimpers, cannot help but let him in. 

“That’s my burden to bear, not yours,” he tries, trying to move away, but Jongin pulls him in, kissing him deeply, and the water pouring over them isn’t as scalding. His hands are gentle, respectful, so  _ tender  _ on Minseok’s body, and he wants to cry, wants so much. 

“Minseok. It’s okay,” Jongin says, words soft, eyes even gentler, and Minseok sees so much understanding in his whole expression. He breathes slowly, and lets Jongin kiss him again, lets him touch him. 

“I. I really don’t deserve either of you,” he says quietly. Jongin kisses the corner of his mouth, cradling his face close, and Minseok feels a gentle reprieve blanketing over him. 

“We’ll be the judge of that,” he says, “But you have to know. We would accept you. Scars and all.”

“He hasn’t seen all of them,” Minseok says. He swallows heavily. 

Jongin’s eyes shine. He leans down, murmurs against his lips, “Maybe you should let him see.”

He shakes his head, breath shuddering. Then, Jongin kisses him, deeper, wet from the shower and his spit, and he moves his lips languidly, sucking on Minseok’s lips and taking them into his perfect, plush mouth. 

Jongin’s hands move down, sliding down his back, and palms Minseok’s ass, squeezing and nails biting so, so gently on his skin, and Minseok gasps, gripping Jongin’s arms. His heart is thudding loudly, and his belly is hot. 

“Please,” Jongin looks at him, and though his eyes are dark, they are still so,  _ so  _ soft. “Please. Please, Minseok.”

His name sounds so tender on that mouth, and Minseok can only hold himself back so much. 

Jongin, such a beautiful,  _ beautiful  _ boy. So much more that what he feels he can accept. 

He  _ loves him.  _

He surges up, kissing him, and Jongin’s small whimper melts against his mouth, his beautiful, plush lips parting and letting him lick in, and he gives all of himself to Minseok, curling in, kissing him, his whole body pliant and his to touch.

“Jongin,” Minseok breathes, listening to the way he moans as their bodies slide together under the stream, hiding his head in Minseok’s neck and curling in, clutching on to him. “Please.”

“I’d do anything for you,” Jongin admits freely, maybe even tearfully, and he slides his arms around Minseok’s shoulders, kissing him, mouths meeting in a heated, steaming fever, and Minseok can’t breathe.

Jongin tastes and feels of everything he wants. Everything he knows he cannot freely have. Beautiful and gentle and warmth and Jongin is too, too generous with his touch. Minseok moans as their wet, naked bodies move together, gliding against each other, and he pushes Jongin against the tiles of the stall wall, making him lean and angle his body slightly so their crotches are level.

He adjusts them slightly, and Jongin’s moan as he finds the angle and their cocks slide against each other is high, delicious in Minseok’s ear. His neck feels hot with it all, and he thrusts against his cock again, and his chest tightens, and Jongin is  _ perfect  _ against him, his length thick and Minseok reaches down, takes their cocks in his hand as best as he can, stroking once, and swiping his thumb over their slits.

Jongin cries out, nails biting onto Minseok’s shoulders as he strokes them to full hardness, and he reaches down as well, his fingers curling around Minseok’s. He tilts his head down, lips capturing Minseok’s in a wet, silky kiss, licking across his lips and right into his mouth, whimpering as they frot together. 

“Jongin, oh,  _ fuck,”  _ Minseok can’t bite in his swearing, his whole body hot as he reaches with his other hand, grabbing Jongin’s ass, squeezing as he pulls them off.

Jongin moans, louder as he thrusts his hips, fucking forward into Minseok’s grip, “Oh.  _ Oh, oh fuck. Fuck, Minseok-” _

“Baby,” it slips out, so  _ easily,  _ effortlessly from Minseok’s lips, and Jongin sobs a little. Pumps his hips a little harder, and Minseok’s toes curl, his chest so, so full, neck hot. Looks down, chokes on his tongue; their cocks in his small hand, unable to get his fingers around them completely, sliding together, hard, both leaking at the tip. They look  _ so good,  _ and he can’t describe how they feel. How  _ he feels,  _ how something as simple as this makes him feel like he’s on fire, seeing Jongin so pliant, so beautiful and giving in his arms, willing to give him so  _ much,  _ makes him feel better than he is. 

That he can make Jongin look like this. Make him feel this way. It makes him feel all too lucky, yet. 

He breathes deeply, pushing down the thoughts, focusing on Jongin. Treat him as best as he can, now, while they’re both here, admitting to what they feel.

“Please kiss me,” Jongin whimpers, sniffing, and Minseok aches. Tilts his head up to reach his mouth, press their lips together as he continues to thrust his achingly hard cock against Jongin’s own, his belly hot with it, the friction like sin and Jongin’s noises even more tempting. 

He’s so,  _ so  _ beautiful this way, every way. 

Minseok doesn’t know what to do anymore.

“Minseok,” Jongin murmurs, must have sensed his pause, and he tilts his head, leaves a tender, lingering kiss on Minseok’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but Jongin is shaking his head at him, their noses brushing together, before he’s kissing him again, hips grinding together, cocks hot to their touch, sliding wetly together, slicked up by the water and the precome spilling from the tips. 

“I understand,” Jongin tells him, eyes gentle. “You know I understand. Please. Please be kinder to yourself.”

Minseok closes his eyes, chest tight, feeling very undeserving of him. 

“It’s hard.”

“I know,” Jongin says, kissing his eyelids. “I know. You don’t have to know how to do it all at once. I know it takes time. But please. Please let us in, one day.”

Minseok feels the tears leak, make his face hot, and he curls against Jongin, face in his neck and moving both his hands to his ass, pushing him  _ in  _ closer as he thrusts forward, their cocks thrusting and rubbing against each other, their whole bodies pressed together, fitting in with each other effortlessly. 

Jongin moans, Minseok moans with him, echoing in the quiet of the shower room, the other sound being the stream of water falling to the floor, at their feet, washing away the soap on their bodies, their hesitation. 

“Oh,  _ oh, fuck,”  _ Jongin moans, his breath hot against Minseok’s ear, and Minseok can feel the quickness of his breath, the racing of his heart, where their chests are pressed together. He reaches out to turn off the water, too much wasted already, and they don’t need it. 

Minseok steps even closer, licks up Jongin’s chest, up his throat, catching the drops of water dripping down his jaw with his tongue, and Jongin holds on to him tightly, moaning and swearing as quietly as he can against Minseok’s skin as they fuck against each other, cocks sliding together and their bellies hot. 

“Beautiful, beautiful,” Minseok says, and Jongin whimpers, curling into him even more. 

“I. I can’t, I’m going to come,” Jongin says, and Minseok kisses him, lets him whimper into his mouth, and he thrusts harder, bringing Jongin’s hips to his, their bodies meeting as he drives forward. 

Jongin gasps, throwing his head back and hitting the tiles with a thud, and Minseok tilts his head down immediately, rubbing the back of his head gently, kissing Jongin’s cheek.

“Does it hurt?” he asks quietly. 

Jongin shakes his head, moaning as their lengths rub against each other. “I just. It feels too good.”

Minseok releases a breath. He feels himself tremble, but does his best to be steady for Jongin, for him to be strong enough to lean on, depend on.

“Please kiss me, darling,” he asks quietly, shyly. Jongin, beautiful, unselfish man that he is, leans down easily, melting simply into him, their lips sliding together like silk.

Minseok feelts it, on every inch of their skin touching, on Jongin’s tongue on his, the way he holds him; so much understanding, warmth, and. 

Love, quiet and sure in the way he holds Minseok’s face in his hands with tender hands, and though Jongin has never said it out loud, though Minseok can’t accept it because he’s done nothing to deserve it, he can’t help but want to take it in, let it wrap him up and give him the comfort and acceptance and  _ forgiveness  _ he so yearns for. 

He remembers Chanyeol. 

And he knows he can’t take it. 

Jongin gasps, hips thrusting minutely, and Minseok kisses him, letting him moan and whine into his mouth as he comes, spilling white over their bellies. Minseok lets him tremble in his arms, sigh and fall against him as he comes down. 

“Fuck,” Jongin murmurs, and Minseok smiles. “I got us dirty.”

Minseok chuckles quietly, and wordlessly turns on the shower again, and Jongin curls into him as the hot water comes down on them. “I’ll clean us up.”

But, before he can reach out to get his soap, Jongin gets a hand around his cock, still hard, and Minseok bites back a gasp, his hands coming up to squeeze Jongin’s waist.

“You haven’t come yet,” Jongin says, eyes shyly meeting Minseok’s as his gentle fingers begin to stroke him, hand moving up and down his shaft, grip tightening as he goes.

“Baby, I,” Minseok tries, but he can’t hide the gasp as Jongin swipes against the head, and Minseok slams his palms on the tiles on either side of Jongin’s shoulders, fucking into Jongin’s fist, his belly hot and swirling, cock so achingly hard and desperate to spill.

“It’s okay,” Jongin whispers, pulling him in to lean against him, tilting his face up and kissing him. “It’s okay, you’re okay-”

Minseok gasps, heat in his belly snapping hard, and he fucks into his fist and comes, shooting up, and white ribbons spilling all over Jongin’s fingers. He breathes hard, closing his eyes, and he tries not to buckle down on his weak knees, but Jongin pulls him closer, lets him lean against him without a word, arms around his waist and lips steady on his temple.

He understands. Things link them together, even so long after a drift. He holds him close, not saying anything, knowing what he needs.

And Minseok. He needs him. Needs them both. So, even when he knows he shouldn’t, for the time being, he allows himself to lean against him. Closes his eyes, and embraces him as well, their breathing syncing together easily as the water beats down on them.

.

He and Jongin take things very slowly. 

It’s awkward, initially, after their night in the showers. But, when Jongin asks him to sit on the bay like they had before, just to talk, about anything. It became easier.

They don’t kiss again. They don’t quite touch again, but. They are easier with each other, and Minseok can return his smiles more comfortably.

But Chanyeol. It remains difficult. It gets even worse. 

Three days before the last mission, past midnight in the sparring room. He observes near the entrance as Chanyeol and Yifan are on the mat, fists taped as they spar, and despite the late hour, the room isn’t empty. Yixing stands next to him near the doors, Jongdae and Junmyeon sitting on the steps, watching and taking notes, Sehun and Zitao leaning against the wall and watching them quietly. 

Minseok is quiet, watching them move, and he doesn’t miss the way Chanyeol keeps his eyes on him even as he spars. 

Yixing steps closer, says, “Are the two of you alright?”

“I’m not too sure,” Minseok answers as honestly as he can. Doesn’t lower his eyes when Chanyeol lands a good blow on Yifan and instantly turns to glance at him, however briefly. Minseok breathes slowly. “It’s not important.”

“He’s doing well now to impress you,” Yixing tells him. “But it’s easy to see he’s all out of sorts. You’re going to have to talk it out, whatever it is. Did you break his heart?”

Minseok bristles, stays quiet and watches on. 

He doesn’t know how to answer that. Doesn’t know if he even wants to answer. 

He watches as they go on, landing hits and dodges and it goes well enough, until it doesn’t. 

Yifan manages to kick Chanyeol squarely on his chest, managing to catch him off guard and sending him to the ground. And then, it doesn’t matter that it was Chanyeol’s fault for not guarding himself better, or that it was a kick that he could have easily dodged had he been more vigilant, or that it was a rookie mistake any first year level cadet could avoid. 

Minseok steps forward, but Chanyeol stands right back up, eyes blazing, the expression on his face almost livid, and he grabs the front of Yifan’s shirt, yelling instantly. 

“What the  _ fuck  _ was that for?” he shouts, and Yifan pushes back at him, and they’re both too fiery, and Minseok knows tensions are high enough that this will lead to a full-on fight. 

“Where’s your focus?” Yifan spits out, pushing at Chanyeol’s chest, and Sehun and Zitao are stepping down to the mat to separate them, Jongdae and Junmyeon standing and trying to calm the situation. Yixing steps down as well, but Chanyeol and Yifan are still going at it, lashing out at each other verbally, limbs dangerously flying around as they try to land one on the other. 

“A barely-trained  _ cadet  _ could have dodged that hit,” Yifan says, struggling back against Zitao’s and Yixing’s hold on him, and Chanyeol struggles similarly with Sehun and Jongdae restraining him. “You have to be more on guard.”

“You didn’t have to use a cheap ass trick to get me on the floor,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok steps between them, and they  _ cannot  _ afford this now. 

“Kaijus will use every cheap ass trick they have, a fight out there will  _ never  _ be fair,” Yifan says, ad Minseok glares at him, trying to get him to shut up.

“Wu, that’s enough,” he says, but Yifan barrels through, and it’s lost.

_ “You  _ should know that, more than anyone,” he says bitterly, and Minseok looks at Chanyeol, the fire extinguishing on his face, and he  _ sees  _ it. The guilt and breakdown and Yifan  _ should know better. _

Yixing says it for him, pushing him hard and grabbing the front of his shirt, “You went too far.”

“Apologize,” Minseok says, voice low, and Yifan looks at him, regret already on his face, but.

Chanyeol scoffs, shrugging out of Sehun’s and Jongdae’s arms, and he stares at Minseok, smiling unamused. “Oh. So  _ now  _ you care?”

“Not now, Ranger,” Minseok says, and Chanyeol visibly bristles.

“Why not now?” he says, and Minseok turns to face him fully, and Chanyeol stares at him  _ hard,  _ eyes blazing even harder and his whole face lined with anger, hurt. “You should be apologizing, too, Marshal.”

“Chanyeol, this is neither the time nor the place for this,” he says, and he catches Junmyeon’s eye, confused but concerned.

“Will you  _ ever  _ tell me what made you turn your back on us so easily?” he says, words barbed and. It  _ hurts,  _ it stings in a way Minseok is not prepared for, for it to be insinuated to be  _ ‘easy’  _ for him, to choose to do this.

“I am not having this conversation. You rest, Ranger,” he says, voice clipped, and he makes to leave, “Junmyeon, make sure both pilots are evaluated-”

There is a hand on his wrist, and he’s being pulled back. Chanyeol holds him to his body, and his gaze is hard, his breathing labored and the tears threatening to spill, and Minseok.

Minseok cannot,  _ cannot  _ talk to him this way.

“Please leave us,” he says. Everyone stares at them, surprised, but he stays firm, reiterating, “I need to speak with Ranger Park alone. It is apparent he has grievances with me.”

Everyone is hesitant to leave, and Minseok, truthfully, would be too. Chanyeol doesn’t let up his gaze, and Minseok stands straight, squaring his shoulders, knowing this cannot be swept under the rug any longer. 

Eventually, Yixing pulls Yifan away, nodding to Minseok as he says, “We’ll be taking our leave, then.”

Minseok nods to him, appreciating his trust, and Yifan gives Chanyeol a glance, his apology apparent in his expression, but Chanyeol seems to have forgotten about his words already, too focused on Minseok, his soul so devastatingly transparent on his face. Want, hurt, looking for answers that Minseok isn’t sure he can provide him with. 

Sehun and Zitao follow them out, surprisingly silent, but their gaze ever curious on them both, and Jongdae and Junmyeon close the doors behind them as they leave, and it’s then that MInseok pries Chanyeol’s hand away from his wrist, gently, and even though Chanyeol is still clearly upset, he brushes their fingers together, trying to calm him.

Chanyeol’s eyes widen, and he wrenches his hand away, staring at him, and Minseok cannot help his disappointment. But, he merely pulls back his hand, bringing it up to fix his cuffs nonchalantly as he says, “We’re alone now. Whatever you want to say to me, whatever ills I may have caused you. Please feel free to air them all out. I will listen to them all.”

Chanyeol stares at him, and Minseok stays still, stays calm, and as much as he wants to fix everything now, right at this moment, it is Chanyeol’s call to make. 

So, it’s not the method Minseok would expect him to choose when Chanyeol says, “Fight me.”

Minseok looks at him, but Chanyeol stares back, unflinching, and he shrugs off his jacket, his shoes, and Chanyeol’s eyes stay on him the whole time.

He would tape his fists, but Chanyeol throws out his hand, testing, and Minseok sidesteps him easily, and he knows the blaze in his eyes won’t let up tonight, not without a fight. 

So, Minseok offers it to him, taunting him with a free pass to his chin. Chanyeol takes the bait, throwing out two punches, which Minseok pushes away. 

Chanyeol breathes hard, and Minseok hears it, his frustration with everything, boiling over. He throws out more hits, and Minseok slips them off, and he aims low, for Chanyeol’s ribs, and it’s an easy hit for him, usually, one that usually disorients his opponents and gets him enough traction to finish a fight cleanly, efficiently. No wasted movements, smart motions, maybe not flashy, but well-placed and using his strength well.

And. Chanyeol slips it off, easily, as if it were nothing. He dodges it, slinking away maybe a little clumsily, owing to his height, but he aims a kick to Minseok’s belly, and it lands, nailing him. 

Minseok steps backwards, not falling to the ground, but the hit was significant, and Minseok breathes in sharply, patting his stomach.

Truthfully, only a few other people have made hits like that. 

The last one had been Jongin. 

Chanyeol tries to kick him down again, but Minseok is prepared for it now, slapping away his foot and aiming his shoulder to his chest, making Chanyeol grunt and sending them both down to the floor. 

Minseok gets on top of him, straddling his thighs and pinning his hands down, and Chanyeol’s eyes are like fire when he looks up at him. “Are you done?” Minseok says, breathing slowly, but Chanyeol doesn’t answer. Instead, with strength Minseok had always known he had, he turns them over, getting behind him on the ground and getting Minseok’s head in an armlock. 

Minseok struggles to breathe, and when he tries to pry Chanyeol’s arms away, he doesn’t let up. Even holds on tighter, and he’s so close. He’s sweaty from all the sparring, from training and being worked to the bone, and Minseok breathes him in for a moment. 

Then, he’s elbowing at Chanyeol’s ribs, making him jolt and cough, and he’s on his feet again, Chanyeol soon following. When Minseok aims for a high kick, Chanyeol catches his foot, but Minseok lifts off the ground with his other foot, kicking him away as his body spins in the air, and Chanyeol steps back from the impact, grunting. 

Minseok lands on his bad leg, and he winces slightly, but Chanyeol is barreling forward, and he has no time to think. Just has time to block his hit, and push him forward, shoving him back down to the ground, and their physical chemistry is undeniable, of give and take, evenly matched, and. 

It’s different from the fluidity, softness between him and Jongin, but still balanced, still filling each other where they lack. 

Chanyeol is like fire on his ice skin, visceral, cannot be ignored. Real. 

“Are you  _ done,”  _ Minseok repeats when he pins him down again, and Chanyeol throws his head to the side, gritting his teeth, before he lifts himself up slightly and butts their heads, making Minseok grunt and fall off him, and he has  _ had it. _

Chanyeol is standing, in stance, but Minseok is no longer in the mood to fight, or do anything with him. He glares at him, says, “If you won’t discuss with me civilly then we won’t be able to move forward-”

“I can say the same about you,” Chanyeol spits out, and. He’s not wrong. 

Minseok looks at him, and the anger boils over in his gaze, but simmering, festering beneath it all, is the hurt that Minseok had caused him. The hope he had snatched away from him, even though it may be for his sake. He still caused him grief. 

“I’m sorry,” Minseok says. The only thing he can say. Chanyeol breathes deeply, and turns his head off to the side, face red and fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Please. Whatever you have to say to me, no matter how hurtful the words may be, please. Say it. I will listen. I just want you to feel some peace.”

Chanyeol looks at him, his eyes a little wider, his expression surprised, and Minseok waits. Would wait however long, for him.

It takes some time, but then Chanyeol is crying, tears rolling down his cheeks suddenly and his chest heaving as he tries to wipe them away just for more to come, alarming Minseok, and he says through his sobs, “I. I don’t understand, what. What is it about me, that you cannot let me in, the way you have with Jongin?”

And. Minseok had not been expecting him to say this, and. He truly did not know he had felt this way, and his chest feels like it’s been split open, torn at, with the heartache and vulnerability Chanyeol shows him.

“You’re so open with him, you’re affectionate with him, and I understand, because he’s  _ beautiful  _ and  _ wonderful,”  _ he says, choking on his words and tears and Minseok feels so  _ urged  _ to go to him, hold him. “But. I don’t understand, why you can’t be that way, with  _ me.” _

“I can’t,” Minseok offers lamely, inadequately. He hates himself. 

“Is it,” Chanyeol tries between hiccups, “because. You don’t feel the same way, about me?”

Minseok’s breath catches in his throat. “You know that’s not it,” he says, and he feels his own eyes prick with the threat of tears.

“You’re so hard to understand,” Chanyeol cries, and he’s holding his chest, looking so devastated. Minseok feels himself break a little more. “I. I don’t know how to take your words, I don’t know what to do with them.”

“I know I’m not open, and I say one thing and do another,” Minseok says, unable to offer him more than the minimum, but he tries anyway. “But I kissed you then because I am sincere in my affection for you.”

“But you don’t want to hold me the way you hold Jongin,” Chanyeol says. 

“I can’t,” Minseok aches with it. 

“You  _ can,”  _ Chanyeol tells him. “I am willing to take more than you give me credit for. Please give me the chance.”

Minseok fights every urge in his body telling him to gather him in his arms, comfort him, give in. He says, “You wouldn’t want me. After you see everything.”

“And how is Jongin different from me, if he could accept everything?” Chanyeol asks him, and he’s shattered, the pieces falling one after the other with each word Minseok says, and Minseok feels awful. “Just. Please say it directly, that you don’t want me. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me since it all happened.”

“That’s not true,” Minseok breathes, and Chanyeol cries. “That’s not true at all. I, I  _ want you,  _ I want you so much my soul aches. I want so much to be enough for you, to be strong enough that I can give you what you need from me, but.”

He trails off, the words no longer coming to him, and he fails them both. He feels awful, the bitter taste of it all clogging his throat. 

Chanyeol cries, and he’s curling into himself, and Minseok  _ hates  _ that he made him this way. That he made such a strong, towering light crumble. 

“Marshal,” he hiccups, pressing the heels of his palms against his eye sockets, sobbing between breaths, “I know you can’t, but. I cannot help the way I feel. The whole of me, it wants to be near you, always. And it hurts, it’s  _ devastating,  _ because you keep pushing me away after giving me hope.”

“I’m sorry,” Minseok offers. He feels as if his heart is trying to claw out of his throat, and he feels his resolve chip away with every tear that leaks out of Chanyeol’s eyes, and he steps forward once. Then another, and another, until Chanyeol is within arm’s reach, and he so desperately wants to hold him. “I’m sorry. Chanyeol. I’m sorry.”

Chanyeol shakes his head, crying all the while. Minseok wants to offer him more, and it sets heavy on his heart. 

Then, Chanyeol lowers his hands slightly, looking down at the ground and holding in his sobs, his whole body trembling. 

Then, he’s launching himself into Minseok’s arms. And they’re kissing. 

Chanyeol’s mouth is soft, wet and salty from his tears, pressed against Minseok’s, moving gently, tongue shy against his bottom lip, and Minseok knows,  _ knows,  _ he should move away. Not get Chanyeol’s hopes up, and more importantly, his  _ own  _ hopes up. 

But, in that moment. He is  _ tired,  _ of hurting them, of giving Chanyeol a hard time, making him cry, making him feel unwanted. He’s tired of holding himself back, of punishing himself by keeping them out of reach. 

Tired of not allowing himself to love them, and be loved.

He tilts his head up, angling so their lips mold together, fitting as Minseok knows they do, and Chanyeol whimpers into his mouth, and his trembling lessens, his breathing less short, but more longing, syncing in time with Minseok’s.

“Minseok,” Chanyeol says softly, his voice quiet, wanting. Minseok closes his eyes, takes him in. 

“Baby,” he says, the words achingly melodious and soft on his tongue, and Chanyeol sniffs, cries again, but it’s not as labored, not as sad. He clings to Minseok, curling his arms over his shoulders, and Minseok brings his own arms to pull Chanyeol closer to him, embracing him, fingers slipping beneath his sweat soaked shirt, gliding up his back.

Chanyeol’s moans are devastatingly soft, so sharp in contrast to the hard lines of his body, the bulk of his shoulders and back and arms, the muscle built over years of experience. 

His lips are softer still on Minseok’s cheek, his jaw, then his mouth again, and Minseok kisses him, their mouths meeting languidly and their tongue licking against each other, and Minseok sinks into it, Chanyeol sinking into him.

“Please?” Chanyeol whispers, and Minseok hopes his hands on Chanyeol’s body are as tender as Chanyeol’s voice, wants him to feel safe with him, truly wanted.

Minseok looks up, and Chanyeol’s eyes are shy, wanting, patient, and he can’t deny him. He doesn’t want to. 

He presses his palms flat on his back, pulls him closer, and kisses him, a little harder, with more intent as his tongue licks into his mouth, still gentle, but motions a little sharper, more fervently.

“Please,” Chanyeol asks him again, even more quietly, breathily as Minseok trails his mouth over his jaw, down his throat. He feels against his lips Chanyeol’s hitch of breath, and he licks his skin, searching, needing.

“Tell me what you need,” Minseok says, kissing just beneath Chanyeol’s ear, and Chanyeol whimpers, curling into him even closer, and he’s so, so soft. Much too beautiful for Minseok to hold like this, but he’s generous with his touch, with his affection, and he melts into Minseok, gives himself so wholeheartedly it’s a little dangerous.

But Minseok is greedy. He takes what he’s given, holds him close, kisses him, stays with him. Waits for him, until he answers silently.

Chanyeol’s hands shake slightly, as they move down, but they are sure in their intent as slip down Minseok’s sides, to his hips, then. Fingers trailing down the front of his pants, staying there.

Minseok swallows, looks at Chanyeol again. He doesn’t look away, his touch gradually becoming bolder, cupping Minseok’s still soft cock, making him moan, latch on to his lips again.

Minseok breathes slowly, and touches the front of Chanyeol’s shorts. His chest sings when Chanyeol whines, pushing forward into his fingers and his breathing becoming shorter, little moans fed right into Minseok’s ears and making him push just a little more, wanting him to feel good. 

“Baby,” he murmurs, and Chanyeol whines again, louder, hands a little clumsy as they unbutton Minseok’s pants, pulling down his bottoms just enough, pulling out his cock, and Minseok groans. Chanyeol’s hands are calloused rough, but his motions are tender, his hand large and warm as he tugs slowly on his length to full hardness, and Minseok takes the kiss he offers him, taking the moans Chanyeol streams endlessly into his mouth. “Baby.”

“Please, please touch me,” Chanyeol murmurs, trembling against him, and Minseok holds him closer. Pushes down the garter of his shorts, his underwear, and his cock is thick, long, and hot in his hand, jumping at his touch.

He’s beautiful, his face so devastatingly open as he moans, cheeks pink and his lips so plump and bruised from his own, and Minseok can’t help but kiss him again, his own mouth sensitive from it all. 

His other hand moves beneath the garter of Chanyeol’s bottoms, slipping in to squeeze his ass gently. Chanyeol shivers, one hand clutching Minseok’s shoulder and pushing his ass back against his palm, and Minseok watched him come apart slowly in his arms. 

“You liked that?” Minseok asks him, and Chanyeol whimpers, his  _ “yes,”  _ so soft, almost inaudible, but his motions are sure, his hand stroking Minseok’s length, pushing back as Minseok grasps his asscheeks. 

“More, please,” Chanyeol leans his forehead against his, lips brushing each other and Minseok would give him everything. 

Minseok pulls out his hand, bringing it up to his mouth to get his fingers slick for him, but Chanyeol takes his hand in his. Minseok watches, enraptured, as Chanyeol keeps his gaze on him, nervous but sure as he brings Minseok’s fingers up to his mouth instead, and his tongue darts out to swipe over the pads of his fingers. 

Minseok swallows, chest tight and belly hot as Chanyeol’s eyes bore into his, licking a little more, his tongue wet and warm and he’s taking more of Minseok’s fingers into his mouth, inching down on them. 

Three of Minseok’s fingers are in Chanyeol’s mouth, up to the knuckle, and his tongue slides over his skin, coating them with saliva, and it’s steaming and sexy, but more than that. 

The gentle, nervous, almost  _ disbelieving  _ look in Chanyeol’s eyes, he way he kisses Minseok’s fingers with care as he pulls them out of his mouth, his other hand on his dick taking long, measures strokes, achingly gentle. 

Minseok’s heart is full. He kisses Chanyeol, kisses him with as much affection he can relay through his mouth, try to give even just the slightest bit of love Chanyeol is generously offering to him in spades. 

He moves his slicked up hand down, beneath his shorts and underwear and down to his ass, persevering through the awkward angle, not wanting to pull away even the slightest inch from his baby, to lightly pet at Chanyeol’s hole, his middle finger tracing his rim. 

Chanyeol gasps into his mouth, his whole body shaking, and he whimpers, “Please, please touch me.”

“Okay, baby,” Minseok says, trying to calm him with a long kiss to his cheek, right where his lips sink into Chanyeol’s beautiful dimple, and he prods and pushes in his finger as he encircles Chanyeol’s cock with his other hand, grip tighter and thumb tracing the veins as he strokes. 

“Ah,  _ ah, Marshal,”  _ Chanyeol moans, and Minseok holds him tighter, and the air is so light, yet thick with steam around them. 

“Please call me by my name,” Minseok pleads quietly, and Chanyeol pulls back, eyes bright.

He nods, and says with a soft, honey tone that Minseok never wants to stop hearing, “Okay, Minseok.”

Minseok breathes it all in. He kisses him, capturing his lips in his, murmuring against his pretty mouth, “Thank you, baby.”

He sinks his spit-slick finger into Chanyeol’s hole, deeper, until he’s knuckle deep inside, and Chanyeol is hot, tight around his finger, but he takes him so well, accepting him inside with tender moans as he trembles against him, his hand around Minseok’s cock going slack as he melts more into Minseok’s arms.

Such a strong, tall, overwhelmingly beautiful man, would allow himself to be so vulnerable in Minseok’s embrace, it overwhelms him, makes him feel like he’s so much  _ more  _ than he is. 

Makes him feel like he must work harder, if just for him. For them both.

He pushes another finger into his ass, and Chanyeol cries out, flinging his arms around Minseok’s shoulders and he makes himself small, hiding his face in Minseok’s neck.

Minseok’s chest is achingly tight, and he kisses Chanyeol’s cheek, letting him lean on him, angling their bodies so he can plunge his fingers into his ass, and so their cocks, similarly hard and the slightest bit wet from the precome spilling from the heads, are sliding together, thick and hot and Minseok’s fingers are much too short to wrap around them both fully. But he pulls them off both together, their cocks so achingly hard, and Chanyeol whimpers, moans easily. 

“Oh,  _ oh, Minseok. Fuck,”  _ he moans, holding on to him as his legs slowly weaken, and Minseok holds him up, supporting him as much as he can. 

“Chanyeol, you’re beautiful,” Minseok tells him, and he can feel Chanyeol tremble against him, shaking his head as he fucks forward into his fist, then back on to Minseok’s fingers fucking into him. “Fuck, baby.”

“Minseok,” Chanyeol is sighing, moaning, knees buckling slightly and his hole clenching around him as Minseok fingers him, pushing in with another finger slowly, filling him up and driving into his ass with his fingers. “Oh,  _ oh, uh, uh-“ _

“Such a gorgeous mouth,” Minseok praises him gently, and Chanyeol cries, tears leaking out and sinking into Minseok neck as Minseok continues to fuck his ass with his fingers, his hole clenching around his digits, and his cock continuing to slide against Minseok’s. 

It’s quiet between them. A gorgeous little silence as Chanyeol leans against him, vulnerable and giving with soft sighs and moans right into Minseok’s ears as he fingers his asshole, cocks frotting together and their bodies so warm, molding together. 

“Minseok,” Chanyeol murmurs, cheeks so pink. His face is wet, lips kiss bruised, and Minseok loves him immensely. “I. I’m close.”

Minseok heard it in his voice. His need to come, but the unwillingness for this to end. 

Minseok cannot help but feel the same way. 

“It’s alright, baby,” he says, kissing Chanyeol, making it deep despite the sensitivity of their lips, and he fucks his fingers into him faster, harder, pushing Chanyeol’s hips forward as he fucks his own forward, their hips meeting and their cocks sliding against each other. 

Chanyeol whines louder, hips fucking together, and his hole winks around Minseok’s fingers, squeezing and clenching around him. 

“Chanyeol, baby,” Minseok says, holding him close, fingers driving in and out of his ass, “Taking it so well. You’re doing so well.”

“Ah,  _ ah,”  _ Chanyeol moans, breath short. “Minseok,  _ Minseok, fuck-“ _

Minseok gets his other hand on their cocks again, grip tightening, and he swipes his thumb over the heads, and Chanyeol  _ gasps.  _

He cries as his hips thrust, piston and he comes, shooting white over their torsos, dirtying their shirts as he moans and moans, thrusting into his fist as he spills more. 

His pleasure, relief is open on his face, devastatingly beautiful as his ass clenches around Minseok’s fingers and his whole body collapsing, knees buckling and he almost falls, legs failing him. But Minseok is there to hold him up, letting him lean against him as he trembles from head to toe. 

Minseok brings his hand up to cup his cheeks, tilting his head to kiss his mouth, lips moving against Chanyeol’s and making him moan into his mouth, their tongues sliding together and spit on their lips, skin, running down the corners of their mouths and down their chins.

“Minseok,” Chanyeol whimpers, his large hand coming down to grasp Minseok’s cock, and Minseok chokes on his tongue, his chest full.

Chanyeol settles on his feet, and pulls Minseok into him, letting him lean into him this time as he tugs Minseok’s cock, stroking his cock, pausing to lick his palm to make the slide easy, and Minseok is so, so weak for him.

It doesn’t take much longer, with Chanyeol kissing his ear and the side of his neck, murmuring Minseok’s name so prettily into his skin as he pulls on his cock. Minseok moans, gasping as the heat in his stomach snaps, his cock unloading and shooting on to their shirts, pearl white and joining Chanyeol’s mess on their bodies.

He gasps still as he calms down, chest heaving and face hot, and Chanyeol holds him close, and their bodies lean on each other, keeping each other steady.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol says, keeps saying, though Minseok should be the one saying it to him. “Minseok. Thank you, thank you. Thank you.”

Minseok tilts Chanyeol’s head down, pressing their lips together, kissing him with every affection he can afford.

“Baby,” Minseok says tenderly, and Chanyeol whimpers, curling into him, giving him much more than he deserves. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Chanyeol repeats, meaning it just as much, so beautiful. Minseok holds him, melting into each other, and he remembers Jongin. His heart is in his throat, making it hard for him to swallow, and the quiet embraces them, a small moment to breathe together.

.

A day before the mission, Jongin and Chanyeol finally drift together.

It’s much delayed, but when it happens, it’s as if the cloud that had been settling heavily in their chests without them knowing had lifted, lighting up and allowing for a few rays of brightness to filter in. Hope, in the form of Chanyeol and Jongin step into the drivesuits and coming into position in November Star’s head, and Minseok watches from the deck with the technicians, with most of his staff, with his research facility and other pilots and Yixing behind him, and cadets, crew members and  _ the whole Bay  _ out on the ground below, as the head drops to connect with the rest of the Jaeger, proud and strong. 

They look not quite at ease, but certainly in sync, relaxed to a degree, to Minseok’s relief. He knows it’s not easy, but he’s immensely proud, watching them both. 

“Preparing for trial run,” Jongdae says, pressing commands on the tech board in front of him, and he looks to Minseok, waiting for his command. 

He takes a deep breath. “Engage pilot to pilot protocol.”

The whole room seems to hold its breath. “Engaging now,” Jongdae says, and they begin. 

November Star’s nuclear core lights up, burning bright in its center, fan spinning and her heart is blue, glowing like a supernova. She’s beautiful, and Minseok understands Chanyeol’s attachment to her instantly. 

“This is Marshal Kim Minseok,” he says into the comms, Jongin and Chanyeol’s images coming up to the screen. He swallows, “Prepare for neural handshake.”

Jongdae counts them down. Minseok can’t see anything other than them, and it initiates. 

They both close their eyes, and Minseok can  _ hear  _ the sharpness of their breath together as it hooks in, and it’s moments of an agonizing wait, loading as they test the waters between them, drifting, the bridge connecting and wading through memories together. 

Everyone’s eyes are on the Jaeger out on the Bay in front of them. Minseok’s are on the screen showing their faces, their eyes closed as they do their best to not chase the rabbits, and Minseok waits with bated breath. Hopes that Jongin is enough, to help Chanyeol not give in, not sink into the heaviness if that day everything changed for him. 

He waits. They all wait. He sees the slight unease in their faces, the pinched expressions they share, and his heart is in his throat, heavy, choking him slowly. Tries not to dwell on the thought of it not being enough, of his intuition being wrong, of them  _ not working.  _

Then. They exhale together, chests heaving as they open their eyes, and Jongdae breathes out with them. 

“Neural handshake confirmed,” he says, and it feels like the largest exhale in Minseok’s chest, relief, gratitude. “Status: compatible.”

“Holy fuck,” Baekhyun breathes next to them, and the whole room, once tense, becomes light, still quiet, but full of joy. 

_ “Right hemisphere, calibrating,”  _ Chanyeol says, lifting an arm, and they watch the Jaeger in the Bay before them lifting up an arm, and Minseok’s eyes sting. 

_ “Left hemisphere, calibrating,”  _ Jongin follows, lifting his other arm, and November Star follows suit. 

Their motions are identical, moving together, nothing needing to be said as they become one, with their Jaeger, with each other, their arms both coming to a ready stance in front of them, November Star mirroring their movements. 

People would find it strange, how beautiful Minseok finds it all. 

“Systems look good,” Kyungsoo reports, and he looks at Minseok, a nervous energy lining his shoulders. Minseok understands. “Waiting for your call, Marshal.”

Minseok takes a breath. Knows they should start, seconds passing by that are wasted, but he turns on the comms. Swallows, asks them, “Park. Kim. How are you feeling?”

The rest of the room watches on, waiting for their reply.  _ “It’s. It’s different, but good,”  _ Chanyeol answers. The nervous tone to his voice is apparent, but there's something anticipatory about it. Like he’s the slightest bit  _ relieved,  _ maybe even excited. 

_ “I forgot how fun that could be,”  _ Jongin offers easily, laughing a little, and there is a warmth in his voice that Minseok knows is for him. That in the shared space of memories between them, they know, they see that  _ he  _ is part of them, separate in each of their minds but wholly mutual affection, and there is quiet acceptance. 

It’s shatteringly sobering, despite the silent hopeful joy in his soul. 

“Commence trial run,” he commands, standing to his full height and squaring his shoulders out, leaving Minseok behind, putting forth Marshal, the one everyone depends on. The one that can’t afford to falter. 

It’s simple enough. They’ll be practicing combat maneuvers and trying on the weapons Baekhyun and Kyungsoo had developed later, out on the sea, after Minseok deems their drift compatibility sufficient to do more difficult movement together with the Jaeger. For now, it’s simple movements, throwing punches and taking a few steps forward and back, and they move seamlessly, November Star graceful and poised, almost as if she weren’t a metal, artificial titan but almost human. Jongin seems to balance out Chanyeol’s innate limb awkwardness with his natural fluidity, his grace and organic motions, and Chanyeol’s strength is overwhelming, hitting hard and giving them footing.

They are perfect. They are doing so,  _ so  _ well. 

It reminds him of Typhoon Ninety, the easy wonder to pilot her, to be with him and say everything in the drift, the way it was everything, everything, then the shattering moment it was all taken from him. It crushes his chest instantly.

It’s the concrete evidence Minseok did not need to know, that they. They don’t need him, and they never will. They are enough, and he would just give them more pain.

He cannot have them, the way he could not have. Him. It would never work. 

Still, seeing it before him, it’s beautifully, achingly bittersweet.

Minseok exhales, just to inhale again.

“Good work, Rangers,” he says into the comms again, and they pause, the softness in their gazes as they listen to him speak too apparent. Minseok can only imagine what they must be saying in the drift, to each other. He doesn’t dwell on the thought. “Disengage, we need to equip the Jaeger with the new tech. Return to post in an hour.”

There is a bit of applause, much deserved, and he walks out of the deck, blinking and pausing as his exhaustion and stress compound on him right as he’s out of the door. 

He sways, only for a hand to settle on his elbow, and another on his back, walking him out of the hallway, and into a darker corner. 

“You alright?” he recognizes Sehun’s voice, and Junmyeon’s cool hand on his forehead, then his neck, checking his temperature. 

“I’m fine,” he says. He breathes, says it again. “I’m fine.”

“They did damn good, Min,” Sehun tells him. His voice is soft, but proud, reassuring. “You did well.”

“I did little,” he says, and he makes to move, get some air somewhere else, but Junmyeon stays still in front of him, palm on his chest. 

His gaze is concerned, serious, as it seems to be whenever he looks at Minseok these days. Like Minseok is a never-ending cause of stress for him, as Minseok knows he must be. “You can’t keep telling us you’re fine when you’re not.”

“But I am,” he says, and Sehun makes a face at him. He’s a brat, and Minseok pats his face, before looking at Junmyeon squarely in the eyes, repeating, “I’m fine.”

“You’re breaking our hearts,” Junmyeon tells him, and Minseok goes quiet. “You can’t keep on punishing yourself like this.”

“Marshal?” 

They look to the side, see Jongin and Chanyeol standing together, still in their drivesuits and helmets in their hands, and Minseok stands up straighter, can’t let them see him weakened.

“You’ve both done well,” he tells them, and he offers them a smile. He sees on their faces that it doesn’t diminish the apparent concern they have, and when they make to step towards him, he bows to them all, saying curtly, “I have some technical matters to attend to, if you’ll excuse me-”

And he leaves, walking away briskly, searching, yearning,  _ desperate  _ for some air to breathe, to be alone, to  _ not  _ think and be overwhelmed. Of course, he’s not left alone, and whoever is following him catches up to him quickly, just as he makes it to his office, and he knows, just knows, that it’s the two of them. The ones he can’t face without things falling apart slowly.

“Marshal,” Jongin’s soft voice speaks first. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he keeps his voice steady. And it’s the truth. They are doing well, and there is no reason for Minseok to be acting this way. He’s not upset, or angry, or even sad. He just is. “You’re both doing well.”

They don’t look appeased. They watch him, and Minseok does not miss the way their fingers brush against each other briefly. He breathes again, hates being so hesitant, so  _ apprehensive  _ with them both, when he knows what’s best for them.

“Why do you look so tired, Minseok?” Chanyeol asks him, voice tender and warm, and Minseok’s chest is tight. He can’t believe he’s being so  _ weak,  _ so selfish, when Chanyeol had just overcome his fear of facing his memories in the drift, had found someone who had calmed him and walked with him in the drift instead of chasing the rabbit. He  _ hates  _ himself.

“I’m fine,” he says, like it’s all he can say these days. “Please don’t worry too much about me.”

“You know we can’t  _ not  _ worry about you, Marshal,” Chanyeol tells him quietly, and Jongin looks at him, gaze concerned, edging affectionate. “And even though you say you’re fine, we. We know there’s something on your mind.”

“There’s a lot to be done, and not much time to get it all done, that’s all,” he says, avoiding their gaze. 

“Minseok,” Jongin says, a little timidly, “We. We don’t know how we can be of help, but. Please share it with us. We want to help you, the way you’ve been so patient to listen to our fears.”

_ ‘There’s nothing to share,’  _ he almost says, but he knows it’s not the truth, and no one will believe it. Not even himself. He doesn’t know what to say. “I think I’ve caused you more problems than I’ve been able to help you with anything,” he tells them.

“That doesn’t mean we won’t want to help you. It’s not a competition,” Chanyeol says. “Marshal. You  _ know,  _ how we feel about you. We care about you. We just want you to be okay.”

“I am as okay as the situation will allow me to be,” he says, and he sees the small frustration on their faces at his vagueness. He hates that he cannot be as open as he wants to be, but he has to be stronger for them. He needs to be that fixed point. They are _so close,_ so close to ending the war, the root of their suffering and grief and loss, and Minseok cannot afford to allow himself to forget his place, his burden and privilege as the one to lead them all there. 

“Report to the med bay for post trial evaluations. That’s an order,” he says, turning away from them, leaving no room for arguments or questions, but Chanyeol and Jongin, they are not the type to give in easily.

“You didn’t tell me you and Jongin had drifted together,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok pauses. Turns to look at them once again, and Chanyeol’s shoulders are tense, his face lined with poorly disguised hurt, and Jongin stands behind him, looking at Chanyeol with a surprised, regretful expression. 

Minseok swallows, and quietly tries to quell his pounding heart, worried, terrified. “And what did you see? Of my memories, in the drift Jongin and I shared?”   
Jongin looks at him, eyes wide and sorry, but he’s shaking his head slightly. Chanyeol is the one who words what he can’t say, however, “You don’t need to worry. Jongin is a loyal drift partner. He carried us past any of your memories before I could see anything. But that’s not what I’m asking.”

Minseok’s chest is tight, and won’t stop racing. He looks at Chanyeol, and asks him, trying to not sound too anxious, “What is it, then, that you’re asking?”

And Chanyeol. He looks  _ so disappointed.  _ It’s crushing. “You should trust us, Minseok.”

“I  _ do  _ trust you,” he says, but they both look at him so sadly.

“You’ve been saying that for weeks, but you’ve shown us so little,” Chanyeol says, and his heartbreak is visible on his face. Minseok can’t breathe. “Marshal-”

“This cannot continue. I, I am sorry, to do this to you. To abuse your kindness to me. I’m sorry to have lead you on,” he says. It’s not what he wants to say, but it’s what needs to be said, and its effect is immediate. He sees the exhale, and the dejection on Jongin’s face, and Chanyeol is nothing short of devastated. 

“Minseok,” he says on a breath, blinking, and there are tracks on his cheeks from where the tears have begun falling. “Please-”

Minseok hates himself. Hates himself  _ so much,  _ wants to disappear, cannot believe he’s hurting himself like this again. There is no hope, no redemption arc for him. He should have known.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Jongin says, and his voice is hard, and it’s the first Minseok has heard him like this. He breathes in, knowing he deserves it, but it doesn’t make the sting any less difficult to take. “We’ve told you that we are willing to shoulder more than you think.”

“I need to protect you,” Minsok tells them, but Jongin shakes his head. “I need to stay away from you, so you won’t get hurt-”

“We know you’re noble, we know you would take every pain for yourself before it hurts others. We admire you so much for it,” Jongin says then, breathing slow, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, but he stands firm. “But please. Give us the small credit for being enough to help you carry even a bit of that pain. We’re not so weak that we can’t help you in this.”

“We know what we’re getting into, Marshal,” Chanyeol says quietly, and Minseok can’t look at him, at either of them.

He can’t breathe.

“You’re making it  _ so hard,”  _ Minseok says. 

“Marshal-”

“You don’t know. Don’t know what’s happened,” he says, with an air of finality. He doesn’t want to speak further, doesn’t know if he even has any words left.

They both stare at him, so shattered, and Minseok knows they both want to say more. But, Chanyeol looks to Jongin, and they share a gaze of sadness that Minseok knows he’s not allowed to be privy to.

“If you can’t accept us, then there’s not much we can do,” Chanyeol says, and his tone is. Resigned, hurt. The slightest bit angry, and wholly heartbroken. “But Marshal. You have to know, you can’t dictate what tomorrow could bring, or how we would react to whatever it is you’re protecting us from. That’s ours to handle. If we’re hurt now, it’s because  _ you  _ wouldn’t let us love you the way you deserve.”

Minseok sucks in a breath. His chest aches. “I’m sorry.”

He turns away, avoiding their gaze, and a pause, before they move together, making to leave his office. 

Another pause when they’re at the door, then Chanyeol speaks quietly, “You know. It hasn’t changed. We’re still doing this, for you.”

They leave before Minseok gathers himself enough to look up again, and he feels everything slamming into him. Endless guilt, sadness, self-hatred, rooting themselves deeply into his soul and stealing the breath from his lungs.

He deserves it, deserves it all. 

He holds on to his desk, bending over, breathing slowly as he tries not to break down, feeling too cold and too hot in his uniform, getting his bearings as he tries not to feel his heartbreak too much. 

_ You deserve this,  _ a voice sounding much like his own repeats over and over in his head.  _ You deserve this.  _


	3. iii: to the place of our dream

“Marshal, I don’t mean to be crass. But you look like shit,” Jongdae says quietly when Minseok steps back onto the deck half an hour later, and he feels several eyes on him, all of which he ignores.

“Just nervous,” he says, before telling him curtly, “Engage drop.”

“Engaging drop,” he says with a nod, getting to work as he tells November Star, “Marshal Kim back on deck.”

Chanyeol and Jongin are silent on the comms as Jongdae prepares them for the drop back to the Jaeger. Minseok doesn’t say anything, keeping his eyes on the Bay, quiet still as Chanyeol affirms,  _ “November Star, release for drop,”  _ and the head of the Jaeger drops down the chute, down, back to the rest of the metal titan’s body.

“Coupling confirmed,” Jongdae relays, and Minseok replies, “Engage pilot to pilot protocol, prepare for neural handshake.”

The bridge is easier, quicker this time. Chanyeol and Jongin connect, the neural handshake strong and holding between them, and their faces are calm, passive on the screen before him. Minseok breathes, says, “Open the Bay doors.”

“Opening Bay doors,” Kyungsoo repeats, and the light floods in as the massive gates part, the seas churning beyond their haven, and November Star strides out, Chanyeol and Jongin moving together as a single entity out to the ocean, the Jaeger stepping into the raging waters, strong and proud out beneath the skies. 

Minseok watches silently as they get their bearings about them, and he says into the comms, “Commence trial sequence.”

“Yes, sir,” Jongdae says, pressing several buttons and switching a flip. 

At his nod of confirmation, Minseok says, “Rangers, we will be practicing a few combat maneuvers. Please prepare yourselves.”

_ “Copy,”  _ Chanyeol’s voice is curt, void of emotion. Minseok bites back a sigh. 

At his command, they practice the moves they’ve practiced diligently the past month under Yixing’s and Minseok’s careful eyes. One after the other, and it’s so seamless, their motions easy and controlled and it’s as if they aren’t watching a massive metal monster out on the hardest part of the seas, but a person, almost dancing along the shore.

They kick, punch, deflect imaginary attacks from monsters that will come, one after the other as Minseok commands them. They’re doing extremely well, as Minseok had expected them to. 

He knows he’s not allowed to feel proud, but he can’t help it. He’s filled with a surge of pride, as he watches them move.

“Good work,” he says, amidst applause from behind him, and on the Bay below. “Prepare to test weaponry.”

_ “Yes, Marshal,”  _ Jongin answers, just as straightly, and Minseok doesn’t dwell on it.

“Dr. Byun, are the weapons ready for trial?” he asks Baekhyun, who jumps out from behind Sehun.

“Ready to fire on your command, Marshal,” he says, beaming as he takes a seat next to Kyungsoo, and Minseok thinks it’s good he’s feeling light. Someone should.

“Alright, prepare to-”

Before he can finish, however, there is a sound that emanates from the detector, and a mechanical tone voicing,  _ ‘Movement in the Breach. Movement in the Breach. Quadruple event-’ _

“What the  _ fuck,”  _ Kyungsoo swears, standing, his eyes wide, and everyone’s eyes are either on the detector, printing out the huge spikes of movement originating from the fissure between the worlds, or on the War Clock, with over twenty hours still before  _ this  _ was supposed to happen.

It’s chaos.

_ ‘Four signatures,’  _ Minseok stares hard at the largest screen, the Breach red and statistics terrifying,  _ ‘Dilation: Category 4 and category 5.’ _

“This, this isn’t supposed to happen, not yet,” Kyungsoo says, and Baekhyun is standing too, holding his hand, and they’re quiet together, staring at the screen, and Minseok gathers his thoughts. Knows he cannot falter.

“Well, it’s happening now,” he says, and he stands taller, speaks into the comms, “Park, Kim, return to base, we have to prepare-”

“Wait,” Jongdae is suddenly standing, and his eyes are wide, petrified on the screen. “Wait, that’s not possible-”

“What?” Minseok looks to him, and then at the screen. And his whole body goes cold.

There is a sphere indicating the location of November Star, miles out in the ocean, and another massive sphere approaching her, quickly, and quicker still, gaining godlike speed. Appearing and disappearing on the screen, the radar and sensors unable to detect it constantly, as if the Kaiju were  _ blocking  _ the signals, disguising itself in the waters, like no other Kaiju before it, its speed unprecedented, should be impossible

A Category 4, aptly codenamed  _ ‘Wavemonger.’ _

“Chanyeol, Jongin,” he leans over the comms instantly, urgently, fighting to keep calm, but his heart is in his throat, and his vision is almost blurred, “There is a CAT 4 heading towards you, on your two o’clock, get out of there now-”

_ “But there’s nothing on our radar,”  _ Chanyeol says, and Minseok can  _ hear  _ his throat locking up, and Minseok breathes, breathes with them.

“You need to move,  _ now,”  _ Minseok urges them, “That’s an order-”

“Marshal, it’s coming up quickly,” Jongdae breathes, the whole room holding its breath. “They won’t get out of there without having to fight-”

“Not  _ yet,  _ we need that Jaeger intact,” he says, and he repeats, louder, more desperately, “Kim, Park, listen to me-”

The sphere disappears off the screen. Then, a moment later, it’s less than a mile to the Jaeger.

Minseok grabs the on-hand communicator, runs out of the deck, shouting, “To your positions!”

_ “Yes, sir,”  _ echoes all around, and Yifan, Yixing, Junmyeon, Sehun, and Zitao follow him down to the Bay, right out of the gates, to the very edge of the landing where the Jaeger had stepped off barely an hour before to the ocean. November Star is just barely visible on the horizon, looking about her, making to move back, and Minseok speaks into the communicator, “Chanyeol, Jongin, you have to cover more ground quickly, it’s right on top of you-”

_ “We can’t see it,”  _ Jongin says, and Yixing is saying next to him, “Min, it’s not even on the radar, it will be impossible to predict.”

Minseok’s chest is cold, and he says harriedly, “Huang, Oh, suit up, Honey Danger will go out for back-up.”

“Yes, sir,” they say together, running off, but they’re barely able to leave when something emerges from the ocean, right behind the Jager. A massive, grotesquely skeletal monster, its multiple limbs spindling and it’s horrifically large head raring, jaw dropping and flowering tongue curling out of its mouth, peeling into several parts, and Minseok’s heart drops, his whole body sinking. 

“Oh my god,” someone says, though Minseok can’t hear it. 

He shouts in the communicator, “Use the Shot Maneuver, and  _ get out of there-” _

The sidestep the monster, turning on their heel, and Minseok hears Chanyeol schout,  _ “Plasma cannon, now-” _

They fire, just as the beast comes charging at them, and before it can strike down on them, they bring an arm up to halt its limbs, and aim their cannons on its side, blasts of glowing blue plasma firing into its body.

Its anguished scream is horrific, and Minseok’s chest pounds, “What are you doing, I told you to  _ get out-” _

_ “If we don’t kill it now, it will get to the Bay,”  _ Jongin says loudly over the cannon, the Kaiju oozing its incandescent, viscous blue blood over its body, over the waves, but it gets another limb out, long and fluid and it wraps itself around the Jaeger’s body, pulling it in and  _ crushing.  _

Minseok holds his breath, hears them groan through the communicator, but November Star is lifting up her arms, building up in power and energy, and then she’s landing a blow so fierce down on the Kaiju’s head that even from where they stand, the crack of its skull is audible, its resulting shriek making everyone’s blood run cold. 

“Jongdae, tell me Honey is ready to go,” he says urgently, eyes on the metal titan back on its feet, rearing its plasma cannons again and making ready to fire at the Kaiju’s chest, and its weakened, in pain, but Minseok knows that no Kaiju will ever stop fighting, destroying. 

_ “Coupling just about confirmed, sir-” _

“Get them out as soon as you can, get the choppers ready,” he says, and he tells them, “Chanyeol, Jongin, we’re sending out Sehun and Zitao out to assist-”

_ “No, we have this,”  _ Chanyeol says, before the Jaeger readily grabs on to the beast’s arms, firing the cannons over and over until they are able to snap off its limb with a single pull.

They do it again, and Minseok feels like his heart is beating right against his throat, doesn’t know whether he will throw up, or if he will collapse from his nervousness. 

They fight well,  _ extraordinarily  _ well, a perfect, seamless unit that needs no words out loud between them as they move, as if they’ve known each other forever, as if this wasn’t their first drift, as if they had been running mission after mission, kill after kill, hunting after Kaijus as if it were just another day on the job.

Then, the cannon fires a great big blast, right into the monster’s chest, and its impact is resounding, the beast screeching as it falls back, sinking back into the water, and the waves as it crashes down massive, drowning. And silence, in the air, on the Bay, the waves crashing the only noise heard. 

Yixing exhales next to him, but Minseok cannot breathe easy. 

“I told you to get out.”

_ “We finished the job, didn’t we?”  _ Chanyeol says, voice light, and Jongin chuckles next to him. Minseok sighs, quietly frustrated.

“Rangers, get out of there, that’s an order,” he says, “And  _ do  _ listen to what I say this time, alright?”

_ “Yes, sir,”  _ they say, and though they’re not at all smug, there is a slight cool-headed tone in their voices, something that Minseok has not heard in them yet before. A small assurance, that they can do well, that this partnership  _ works,  _ gives them a lightness that Minseok appreciates deeply.

At least one thing works, at least something has gone right. 

He sighs, watching as they turn to leave, but his communicator is going off, shrill, and he pauses, bringing it up to listen to the line. 

_ “Marshal!”  _ Jongdae’s voice comes out loudly on the other end,  _ “There’s a Kaiju signature rising on the radar.” _

“Another one?” he says, mind clouded with worry.

_ “No, sir, that thing is still alive-” _

Minseok’s heart falls.

“Star, get out of there,  _ now-” _

And, like a blow to his chest, it emerges from the sea, livid, covered in its own gleaming blood, horrifying, like in his worst nightmares.

Minseok chokes, remembers it all too vividly.

November Star raises her leg to attack, but the monster is quick. Raises one of its few remaining limbs, and  _ slams  _ down, crushing metal just above the knee.

Jongin’s scream on the comms feels like a death sentence, a bullet to Minseok’s heart. 

_ “We’ve been hit,”  _ Chanyeol shouts, trying to keep composure, but he’s shaken, and Minseok’s vision almost blurs, but he speaks into the communicator, needing to be strong, for them. 

“How bad is his leg?” Minseok asks, and Chanyeol breathes.

_ “Not good, sir,”  _ he answers.  _ “I. I don’t know if we can finish this-” _

Minseok’s heart sinks a little more, and as mucha s he tries not to falter, he doesn’t know what to do. 

Then, like a miracle, the choppers are flying, cables attached to Honey Danger, lifting her off the far side of the Bay, gaining on where November Star and what’s left of the Kaiju are.

“Chanyeol, Jongin, Honey Danger is on its way to where you are,” he says, “the choppers will take you out.”

_ “Marshal,”  _ Jongin says, a little weakly, and Minseok’s heart breaks at his tone.  _ “I’m sorry.” _

He breathes deeply, blinks back the sting in his eyes. “Don’t be, Jongin. You’ve both done incredibly well. What I need is for you both to be safe.”

He pauses, and breathes, again. 

He can’t do this anymore. 

Yixing kindly, gently takes the communicator from his hands, giving him the moment to breathe. Says, “Star, prepare to be transported back to the Bay. Junmyeon, we need the med bay to be ready for them.”

_ “Copy,”  _ Junmyeon’s voice is sure, steady, and Minseok closes his eyes, feeling a little more like a failure. 

He doesn’t hear the rest of Yixing’s instructions, looks up just in time to see Honey Danger bringing out its twin blades, gliding towards the roaring Kaiju, jumping out of the waters with a lightness unseemly for a giant metal robot, coming down to slice the monster cleanly down the middle. 

He watches as November Star is hooked up and flown in by the choppers back to the Bay, and he leaves for the med bay.

“Min,” Yixing says behind him. He keeps walking. “Minseok. Don’t, don’t beat yourself up over it, you couldn’t have predicted this to happen-”

He doesn’t say anything still, merely turning to Jongdae as he runs out of the deck to meet them, “Get November Star back to full functionality in the next hour, and prepare the two other Jaegers.”

“I-”

“That’s an order,” he says, and Jongdae looks at him, concerned, but nodding once to show his understanding.

“Yes, sir.”

He stalks off, through the hallways of organized chaos, everyone getting to position, to be of use, and he envies them. How they know their place and know what to do to help, while he’s out here, floundering as he tries to lead them all. They all deserve better. 

The first thing he sees upon getting to the clinic makes his throat close up.

Jongin is laid out on a bed, his drivesuit being pieced off plate by plate from his body carefully by Junmyeon’s steady hands, Chanyeol still in his suit and helmet in his limp hand kneeling next to him, his other hand being grasped tightly in Jongin’s clutch. His lips are on Jongin’s hand, murmuring gentle words of comfort, and they are so soft together. Achingly tender, and Minseok feels like he shouldn’t interfere. Stay an outsider, as he knows he is.

Minseok looks down, and sucks in a breath when he sees the area around his leg. The damage had been bad on November Star, but mimicked on Jongin’s body, it’s heartbreaking. The metal plates of the thigh are  _ shattered,  _ broken to pieces and large areas of the suit melted off along with the black padded lining, exposing deep gashes on his skin and too much of his blood. 

Minseok knows by a single look alone that the leg is broken. He won’t be able to fight.

His heart breaks, for him. 

“Jongin,” he says gently, coming forward. Jongin’s pinched face, withstanding the pain, upon seeing Minseok, is instantly fallen, and he begins to cry, lowering his head and curling into Minseok’s chest, hands gripping his leather jacket. “Jongin,  _ Nini,  _ it’s alright, you did so well, you both did-”

He cries still, shaking his head, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Minseok says, hands coming up to brush back his hair. He breathes with him, stays patiently, tries to give him even a little comfort. 

Junmyeon is quiet, removing the pieces of shattered and melted metal and cloth from Jongin’s leg with his tools, and Minseok meets his eyes. Junmyeon’s gaze is telling, and confirming what Minseok, and everyone else in the room, already know. 

There is no way Jongin can go back in the Jaeger now.

Yet, Minseok can’t even think of the mission, of sending him back out there, doing his job and getting them all where they need to be. He can’t think of anything but Jongin in his arms, holding him close, tilting his head back to wipe at his tears tenderly. 

It’s not very becoming of a Marshal to treat his Rangers this way. But Minseok stops caring, had stopped the moment they had stepped back into the Jaeger. 

He looks up, and Chanyeol is staring at them, and Minseok sees the way his fist had tightened around his helmet, and the tense line of his shoulders. His face is pale, stressed from the battle, and Minseok can see the slight redness of his swollen eyes. 

Knows he must have felt Jongin’s pain, when he had gotten hurt. Must have been hurt himself, seeing someone he clearly held dear broken like that.

Minseok swallows, asks him gently, “Are you hurt anywhere, Chanyeol? Are you alright?”

Chanyeol looks up at him then. He looks somewhat dazed, but he eventually nods, saying quietly, “I’m okay. Please, just. I don’t need anything, it’s Jongin-”

“I got it. I’ll take care of him, you don’t need to worry,” Junmyeon says, offering them a small smile. “I’ll have to get an x-ray, but by the looks of it, it’s most probably broken. Not bad enough that you’ll never fight again, but you obviously can’t go back into that Jaeger for now.”

Jongin sniffs, nodding, “I’m sorry.”

“You fought well out there, the both of you,” Minseok says. He feels Jongin grip him tighter, and Chanyeol looks back down, not meeting his gaze. Minseok holds in his disappointment, but he knows it’s hard for them, right now. He understands. “You can’t be blamed. We all know it was the Kaiju that did this to you.”

“What are we going to do now?” Chanyeol muses aloud quietly, and Minseok can see him clenching his fists tightly. 

Minseok doesn’t know himself.

A message pops up on the system, and Junmyeon stands to answer. Jongdae’s face appears on the hologram screen, and his face is ashen, worried and stressed.

_ “Is Marshal there?”  _ he asks, but it’s not like the whole of the Bay didn’t know where Minseok had gone. How important these two are to him, how they saw his resolve chip away at the thought of them being hurt. 

“What is it, Jongdae?” he says, voice stable and as professional as he can manage, though he does not move away from Jongin. Holds him tighter, letting him cry silently against his stomach. 

_ “Marshal, it’s happening,”  _ Jongdae says, and at the edge of the screen, Minseok sees the radar Jongdae’s eyes are fixed on. Pulses of red, circles with radii to large for Minseok to comprehend.  _ “The other Kaijus are visible on the radar now. Three signatures with unprecedented dilation. A CAT 5 and two CAT 4s.” _

“Where are they headed?” 

_ “That’s just it, sir,”  _ Jongdae says,  _ “They’re not going anywhere. They’re hovering just above the Breach. It’s like they’re waiting for something.” _

“More like protecting it,” Minseok says, and he breathes slowly, knowing what needs to be done. What he has to do. “We will proceed as planned. Honey Danger, Scarlet Fury, and November Star on deck.”

“Min, Jongin can’t ride,” Junmyeon says, and Jongin curls into him, silent. Chanyeol stands, squaring his shoulders despite the redness of his eyes, like the great pilot Minseok knows he is. Never wanting a fight, but knowing when he needs to fight one.

Minseok aches to hold him.

“You heard me,” he says simply in return. “Jongin won’t ride. But someone else will.”

_ “But who?” _

“That’s my problem to solve,” he says, gently taking Jongin’s hands from his jacket, and tilting his head up in a quiet apology. Jongin sniffs, face streaked with tears, but he nods in understanding, moving back gently. “Do you copy, Jongdae?”

_ “I - yes, sir, I copy.” _

“Good,” he says, straightening himself up, making to leave, “Everyone on deck in fifteen minutes.”

.

Minseok feels strange, stepping into the drivesuit. 

Baekhyun is, strangely, quiet as he and Kyungsoo and Jongdae help him put it on, pressing the chest plates into place and snapping the spine onto his back, the spikes locking with the rest of the suit automatically. 

“How do you feel?” Baekhyun asks him, and Minseok doesn’t answer. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because he has nothing to say. He wouldn’t even know  _ how  _ to begin.

They go down to the Bay’s deck together, double door gates opening to reveal the flurry of work on the deck, getting the Jaegers ready, getting some semblance of order. 

It’s like everyone pauses, when he steps out to the floor and he feels several eyes on him as he makes his way to where the Jaeger teams are, Sehun and Zitao in their copper suits staring, mouths open and eyes wide as they stare openly.

“Is it weird if I want to lick your face a little bit?” Sehun asks him, and Minseok rolls his eyes, though really, the suit is uncomfortable, tighter than he remembers, and all the black metal is hot on his skin. He feels like he’s outside of his body, like somehow, this isn’t real.

He didn’t think he’d ever get back into one of these. 

He looks beyond them, sees Jongin in clean clothes and sitting on a wheelchair, leg bandaged efficiently and cleanly and propped up slightly, and Chanyeol standing next to him, their fingers linked together, both their gazes on him, shocked. Minseok’s chest pounds as he looks at them, and their stares don’t break; he catches the rise and fall of Chanyeol’s chest, even through all the metal on his matching black drivesuit, and the trepidation lining his face. Minseok knows he’s realizing they will be drifting together, that nothing will remain hidden between them anymore.

Minseok is no less apprehensive at the thought. 

He hopes he will be strong enough to keep them from chasing the rabbit.

“Minseok,” Junmyeon comes up to him, face full of concern, “I don’t know if you should-”

“Weren’t you telling me to do this a month ago?” he says, looking straight ahead.

“That was  _ before  _ your leg started hurting again and your PTSD started acting up with those nightmares,” he says quietly, and Minseok doesn’t say anything. He’s right, because Junmyeon is hardly ever wrong. His leg isn’t at its strongest, and the years of therapy, of meds to help him sleep and the psychiatrist visits haven’t done much to stop the memories of being ripped away, then being left so hopelessly alone to burn on his own, especially these last few weeks.

He’s not completely alright. But, he has to do what he can, to save the people here, and the people who don’t know they’re doing this. He needs to do what needs to be done.

He raises a gloved hand to cup the back of Junmyeon’s head, and leans their foreheads together. Junmyeon blinks in surprise, but his expression softens when he sees Minseok’s gaze, and he closes his eyes, understanding.

“Be careful.”

“I’ll do my best,” he answers, and he pulls away, patting Junmyeon’s cheek. Looks up, and Yixing and Yifan are coming up to them, suited up, looking very formidable. Minseok’s soul is eased, knowing they’re here, that they have their backs.

“You look good, Marshal,” Yixing offers, and Minseok nods in return. 

“Surprised you guys had time to make a new colorway,” he replies, referring to his and Yifan’s maroon drivesuits, and they shrug.

“If we’re going to war, we might as well look like Iron Man while we’re at it,” Yixing answers with an innocent smile. 

Minseok looks at Yifan, sees his subtly stunned expression. Asks him with slightly more confidence than he feels he has, “Surprised? Thought you said I’d be the best man to get into that Jaeger.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Yifan says, and he looks at him curiously, quietly. “Are you alright?”

Minseok considers the question carefully. Answers, “Some things are more important than my fears or weaknesses.”

They follow him to the deck, where everyone is gathered, awaiting further instructions, a collective edge setting the tone. Minseok breathes, looks at every face his eyes can see. Tries to be calm for them all, tries to be their fixed point. 

He sees Jongin and Chanyeol, still close together, near the front lines, watching him quietly, still looking at him with so much  _ trust,  _ despite every pain Minseok had given them. They deserve a better Marshal, but he does his best, to be the one they need.

“They’re waiting for you,” Yixing reminds him, and he looks at him.

“Do you have anything you want to say?” Minseok asks him, and Yixing gives him a small smile, shaking his head.

“It’s  _ your  _ Bay, Marshal Kim,” he says, and it adds even more pressure. 

He tries his best not to falter, looking to the men and women and everyone between that works with him, has worked with him for so long. He’s overwhelmed, to say the least.

“I truthfully don’t have much to say,” he says, raising his voice so he can be heard, but it’s stunningly quiet on the deck, something that Minseok has never heard before, as if everyone had paused, given him their ears. “All of you, you have done admirably until now.”

He cannot help but pause as his gaze stops on Jongin and Chanyeol, who are quiet together, hands grasped tightly in each other’s grip, and their own eyes soft on him, wanting, not without hurt, but above all, hope and belief, and Minseok feels like it’s all too much for him to accept.

But, it strengthens him all the same, and he takes a small breath before continuing briefly, “You all deserve a better leader than what I have been. I am sorry for my shortcomings, I’m sure they were numerous. But, I promise, from this point on, I will do my best to help bring you all home.”

He pauses, looks to his Rangers, his technicians. His research division, his medical team, the ground staff, the cadets. Yixing and Yifan, from a whole other country, and everyone who has believed in the program.

He takes it in. What a privilege and honor it has been to serve them all. 

“We are together in this, as we always have been,” he says, and his tone is quiet, yet definitive and final when he says, “Let’s end this war.”

They shout altogether, and he exhales in their unity, taking every bit of strength he can muster. 

He steps down, accepting the kiss Yixing places on his forehead as graciously as he can, and they make to leave, but there is a hand on his elbow, touch gentle and somewhat timid. 

He turns to see Jongin on his feet, leaning heavily on his good leg, and he startles. “What are you doing, you’re hurt-“

“Minseok,” he says quietly, eyes shining, and suddenly, it’s like there’s no one else in the room. Minseok feels his heart race. “May, can we talk? Just for a moment?”

There’s not a minute that can be wasted, and everyone knows it. But Minseok looks at Jongin, and finds that he cannot say no. He nods, and he helps Jongin back into the chair, and they find a quiet space together amidst many curious eyes, Chanyeol’s included. 

Minseok doesn’t even know how he and Chanyeol will drift, or talk to each other. But the neural handshake has a way of leaving everything out in the open. He’ll wait until then. 

For the moment, he and Jongin find themselves in the emergency clinic, temporarily empty, and he helps him sit on the bed. If Jongin’s lingering touch is deliberate, hands on his shoulders for moments too long, Minseok doesn’t say anything. He knows his own hands stay on Jongin’s waist for too long an amount of time deemed necessary, but Jongin doesn’t mention it, even leaning in towards him. 

“What is it, then, Jongin?” Minseok asks him, stepping away, and Jongin looks at him. 

“You look handsome,” Jongin says meekly, and Minseok can’t help the small smile he gives him. 

“I don’t remember it being so tight,” Minseok says, and Jongin shakes his head.

“I’ve, I’ve seen you, under all that,” he says, blushing. Minseok blushes too, Jongin much too beautiful to take. “It suits you well. You look like you’re home.”

Minseok pauses on that thought, and it’s strange. He doesn’t know if he can think of it that way, the way he had felt so out of his body, amplified further by all the metal protecting his skin. He doesn’t know.

“I don’t know about that,” he settles with. He offers him a small smile again, adding, “I never thought I’d ever get back into a suit.”

It’s at this that Jongin looks at him, gaze prolonged, and Minseok waits for him. He does not entirely expect for Jongin’s face to crumple, slowly, before the tears flow from his eyes, running down his cheeks.

“Jongin,” Minseok comes forward, cupping his face in his hands and wiping at his tears as he hiccups, gasping as he continues to cry, and Minseok is at a loss. Doesn’t know what to do. “Jongin, Nini, what is it?”

It takes him several seconds, breathing in great breaths, just to exhale them all shakily, pressing his palm to his heart to try to calm somewhat, but he eventually says, “I’m, I’m sorry.”

Minseok blinks, not understanding. “Why are you apologizing?”

Jongin cries some more, before saying, “I. I know you didn’t want to go back in.”

And Minseok understands. And he can’t help it; he’s so touched, thankful for Jongin’s tender soul. He leans down, kisses his cheek softly, with every affection he can afford. 

“Sweet boy,” he says quietly, and Jongin sniffs harder, sobbing silently. “It’s alright.”

“If I didn’t get hurt-”

“Hey,” Minseok says softly, bringing him close, “Don’t be like that. You couldn’t control this.”

Jongin is quiet again, sniffing and crying noiselessly against Minseok’s chest. Then he murmurs, “You should also tell yourself that, Marshal.”

Minseok stills. Tilts Jongin’s face up to look at him properly, asks, “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen,” Jongin starts, and Minseok sighs softly, “And you should know that it wasn’t your doing. It’s not your fault, so you should stop blaming yourself.”

Minseok looks at him, and. Jongin is too kind, too gentle for this world. Minseok would do everything to protect him, give him the best life. His face softens, and though he doesn’t completely believe it, he says, “Alright. Let’s start being kind to ourselves.”

“You promise you’ll try,” Jongin asks him, eyes shining.

“I’ll do my best,” Minseok says, and that much, he can do. 

Jongin looks at him, and his face falls softly, more tears leaking from his eyes, and he says, “I saw what you’ve been through, and yet, we said those things to you earlier-”

“It’s okay,” Minseok tells him. “It’s okay. Don’t think about that. I know I deserved it anyway.”

“No, you don’t,” he says, sounding so sure of it. Minseok doesn’t know what to make of it. “I know how much pain you’ve been through, I should have remembered.”

“Whatever I’ve been through, it is not an excuse to treat you the way I’ve been treating you both,” Minseok says, brushing back his hair and trying to comfort him. “I lead you on, only to push you away when you both were trying to support me. I know I was wrong. It isn’t right for me to do that, even if it’s to protect you both.”

Jongin cries more, and Minseok takes the minute, stretches it a little more, to kiss the corners of his eyes, wiping his face, to reassure him. 

“Please. Please come back,” Jongin says between breaths, his wet gaze imploring. “Please, do it safely.”

Minseok cups his cheek, gives him a soft smile. “I’ll do my best. I’ll get Chanyeol to come back to you.”

Jongin’s eyes shine more, and he reaches up to touch Minseok’s chin gently. “You too. Please. Come back. Come home, too. It, it doesn’t have to be to me, just come home.”

Minseok blinks, blinks again, eyes stinging. Jongin stands, reeling him into a tender embrace, his body soft against Minseok’s, and his lips even softer against Minseok’s own, full and slightly salty wet from his tears.

Minseok kisses back, lets Jongin guide them, lips moving together, licking into each other’s mouths gently, finding warmth and selfless affection.

“I love you,” Jongin says tenderly, and Minseok inhales, taking the precious words with him.

They’re  _ wonderful  _ on his ears, settling into his chest, right into his heart warmly, and Minseok allows himself this. Allows himself to keep it, just this one thing. 

He doesn’t deserve Jongin, his gentle heart, but he will do what he can to keep him safe and get him home, whatever it takes.

“Thank you,” he says, voice soft with unshed tears, and Jongin understands. Leans down to kiss Minseok again, loving him quietly.

.

_ “November Star, this is Tech Kim Jongdae speaking,”  _ Jongdae’s voice reverberates through the Conn-Pod, but Minseok is vibrating, almost unable to hear him. He looks to his right, where Chanyeol is standing, drivesuit and helmet on, standing still as they’re both hooked up, cables everywhere, feet locking into the massive pedals. Chanyeol is staring straight ahead where the Jaeger’s eyes look out to the Bay, busy, chaotic, and his face shows no clear emotion. Just is.  _ “Secure the Conn-Pod, get ready for drop.” _

Minseok breathes, bracing himself for the drop, and the plunge is visceral, as the head drops down, faster and faster still, to attach to the rest of the Jaeger, coupling within minutes.

_ “Engaging pilot to plot protocol,”  _ and the screen lights up before them, and counts them down to prepare for the neural handshake. 

Minseok’s chest is pounding with nervousness, and he is almost unable to lift his hands to press the lit up buttons above him for the drift, but he pushes himself, Chanyeol quiet still next to him and doing the same.

He doesn’t know what will happen. Doesn’t know if they will drift, as it doesn’t matter how much research Kyungsoo and Baekhyun have done, doesn’t matter how many times his and Chanyeol’s results and similar histories have been compared and evaluated as a good match.

What matters is being in the Jaeger, actually drifting together. Seeing if they will be strong enough to come out without chasing the rabbits, without going out of phase. 

He looks at Chanyeol next to him. Chanyeol is already looking at him, and doesn’t move away when their eyes meet, and there is so much left unsaid between them. It won’t matter within seconds, because everything will be left unturned in the drift.

Minseok loves him deeply. 

Knows he cannot, and should not, because of what had happened earlier. He’d dashed their hopes.

He knows Chanyeol will see every insecurity, every memory, every pain Minseok had gone through, and it will be hard to answer anything. 

Minseok does his best not to dwell, does his best not to think too much of it all, because there are more important things now.

He’s here to get everyone home. 

_ ‘Neural handshake, initiating,’  _ the mechanical voice echoes in the pod, and Minseok closes his eyes, preparing himself.

It’s been a while. 

The familiar but long-forgotten tug at the top of his spine, lighting up the inside of his head, everything moving and flashing before his eyes, so, so quickly, like he can’t take a moment to breathe, otherwise he’ll slip. 

His consciousness flowing out, reaching and looking for its partner, and Chanyeol is. Is different.

Drifting with him is different, different from Jongin, different from anyone Minseok had ever drifted with before.

Jongin was a soft light, like looking at a streetlamp through a fogged up window, somehow comforting and warming up his edges, of which Minseok knows he has many. 

Chanyeol, is bright, instantly. Just as pure as Jongin, but like a flame that burns intensely, strong and impassioned, extraordinarily fierce but not in any way harsh. It lights Minseok up, the spark surging through his limbs and casting everything in a spirited glow.

Minseok fully expects there to be some derision, hurt, contempt, with the way he had last spoken to them hours earlier. But it’s  _ Chanyeol,  _ and Minseok should have known better, known that Chanyeol, with a soul so pure and gentle, would show him anything other than affection and love.

His love is shared openly, immediately, and it’s the first rush Minseok sees. Many glimpses of Jongin, cuddling with his dog first thing in the morning, even with bed hair and puffy morning eyes; long lingering looks as Jongin changed clothes, gazes returned with soft smiles; climbing into one bed at the end of long days, lips skimming bare skin with a heated rush. Minseok tries to carry on past, but there are more memories, hands touching each other’s lengths, and another wherein Jongin is gasping beautifully, nails biting onto Chanyeol’s shoulders as he drives into Jongin’s ass, and they’re beautiful together. Minseok feels a dull ache in his chest, but then he sees  _ himself. _

Chanyeol watching him as he passed by in the halls of the Shatterdome; stealing glimpses of him as he stood by the side, watching his training and test drifts with other cadets. Small moments that Minseok didn’t even notice that Chanyeol had taken care of him quietly, then other moments. When they had first kissed, those weeks ago, lips soft and hands cradling each other’s faces as they licked into each other’s mouths. A particularly warm sensation when  _ “Baby,”  _ slips affectionately from Minseok’s lips, a gush of happiness in Chanyeol’s soul. A rush of pure pleasure, pure joy, upon touching the memory of Minseok touching him intimately, right where he was hottest, Chanyeol lolling his head on his shoulder and melting into his arms as he is fingered open, ass stretched with care and Minseok feels his own cheeks heat. Knows it is a precious memory for him, as well. 

It takes some time. Chanyeol’s memories are bright, many of them happy, many of them tinged with deep sadness. Minseok knows his are no different, and he does his best to drift through the difficult ones. 

But. He feels like someone is holding his hand, along the way. Their touch kind, their hand large and warm in his and drifting along with him, patient and loving. Minseok’s chest warms, and knows even without seeing that it’s him.

_ Are you alright?  _ A voice says in the drift, warm and deep like the thickest honey. Minseok opens his eyes, looks at Chanyeol, whose smile is soft, and he swallows, trying to suppress his tears. 

_ Yes, I’m okay. Are you okay?  _ he asks wordlessly, and Chanyeol nods in reply. 

_ Do you trust me? _

Minseok breathes, and exhales slowly. Answers honestly.

_ Yes.  _

Chanyeol physically breathes out, and Minseok can see the shine of his eyes through the glass of their helmets. He’s beautiful.

Their link is almost colored pink, and Minseok knows Chanyeol must have heard him think it. He smiles, and repeats it,  _ You’re beautiful. _

Chanyeol blushes physically, and he heaves out a great breath. 

_ No rabbits?  _ he’s asked. Minseok braces himself, before nodding.

_ No rabbits. _

_ “Neural handshake confirmed. Status: compatible,”  _ Jongdae says, and Minseok feels a surge of pride, mirroring Chanyeol’s own relief and happiness. 

“Right hemisphere, calibrating,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok follows with the left side, “Left hemisphere. Calibrating.”

Their hands come together, moving as one, and November Star’s massive metal hands meet in a fist, before coming down. 

_ “You look good,”  _ Yixing’s voice comes through the comms,  _ “Told you you would be drift compatible.” _

Chanyeol looks at Minseok for a moment, before reaching up to press the communicator, saying, “Thank you, Marshal. Good luck.”

_ “We’re behind you. You’ve got this,”  _ he replies, and Jongdae is saying to all of them,  _ “Jaegers, prepare for disembarkment.”  _

The Bay doors open, and November Star is the first to ascend, choppers holding her steady as they exit the Shatterdome, hovering over the perilous waters to where the Breach is below, Honey Danger and Scarlet Fury following close behind.

It’s a quick journey, or it feels quick to Minseok, who struggles to keep calm in the face of the biggest mission any of them will ever face. He knows it’s no use to hide it from Chanyeol, who’s even more nervous, the racing of his heart pulsing in the drift, but they hold each other’s hands in the neural bridge, even their thoughts quiet as they’re transported to the target zone to where the monsters wait for them. 

_ I’m scared,  _ Chanyeol admits in the drift, and Minseok looks at him, waiting patiently.  _ I don’t want to fail anyone. Especially you.  _

Minseok’s chest throbs.  _ You won’t,  _ he says.  _ We’ll do this, together. We will end this, for everyone we’ve lost. _

He feels the way Chanyeol’s soul drops slightly, the grief made fresh, somehow. Minseok reaches out physically, and takes Chanyeol’s hand in his for real, and it’s a small thing. He wishes he could do more, but Chanyeol’s fingers close around his, twining their hands together. His gaze is bright, scared, determined.

_ For you,  _ Chanyeol’s voice is quiet, but sure. Minseok feels lightened, yet overwhelmed. 

_ For you,  _ he tells Chanyeol in turn, and adds,  _ For Jongin. For both of you.  _

Chanyeol’s hand tightens, and there is a rush of unhesitating fire that Minseok feels down to the tips of his fingers. 

_ “I love you,”  _ Chanyeol admits, in the drift, and out loud. He doesn’t falter, and smiles quietly, tender even through the helmet, and Minseok suppresses the urge to cry; he is endlessly  _ grateful,  _ to be given such pure affection.

He knows he hasn’t done anything to deserve anything so beautiful. But he keeps it with him, accepts it, for this last time. 

He keeps it with him, as they descend to the waters slowly, Chanyeol saying, “November Star reaching target zone. Disengaging transport.”

And then they’re dropped to the waters, making waves as their Jaeger’s feet land heavily on the ocean floor, Honey Danger and Scarlet Fury dropping right after.

_ “All ports sealed, ready to submerge,”  _ Zitao says through the comms, and Chanyeol and Yixing echo the words as they all descend, stepping down into the ocean, deeper and deeper, until the water’s surface is miles above, They traverse further, and it’s horrifically pitch black, and seeing anything even a few inches ahead is near impossible even with all the Jaegers’ lights turned on. 

Minseok breathes slowly, thinking of how they’re going to do this, taking in the information Kyungsoo delivers through the comms,  _ “Three Kaijus still circling just above the Breach. Codenames: Devilback, Buwaya, Category 4s, and Goemul, CAT5.” _

“Roger that,” he says, “you’ll have to guide us, our radars aren’t showing anything and visibility is zero. Switching to instruments now.”

“3000 meters from ocean cliff,” Chanyeol says as they lug forward together, ocean floor still too dark and foreboding, the pressure from being so deep in the waters crushing. “Half a mile to the Breach.”

_ “Half a mile and we see shit,”  _ Yifan says, and they hear Yixing’s  _ tsk  _ at his language, but he’s not wrong.  _ “How the hell are we going to do this?” _

_ “Honey Danger, you have movement on your right,”  _ Jongdae warns then, voice urgent,  _ “Fury, on your ten o’clock-” _

_ “We can’t see shit,”  _ Sehun says,  _ “They’re moving too fast.” _

“1000 meters from the drop,” Minseok says, his whole body thrumming, feels like the whole Jaeger is thrumming as well. He inhales, exhales, calming himself, calming Chanyeol, who is struggling to keep his cool in the drift, as they inch toward where it all ends. “Focus, we’re almost there.”

Then, like a nightmare, the attacks come in waves, all at once.

The CAT 4s rush in from either side, Honey Danger immediately bringing its arms forward and shoving off, with plenty of struggle, a massive Kaiju, head long and pointed up, dropping its jaw to reveal rows of pointed, saber-like teeth. Scarlet Fury is firing at another Kaiju, no less gruesome, it’s body long and spiked, though moving as if it has no bones, slithering across the water with a caved in head, circles upon circles of sharp fangs.

“Scarlet Fury, coming to assist,” Minseok says upon seeing the way every blast they send bounces right off the Kaiju’s exterior, teeth protruding further out of its disgusting mouth as it rears forward and lunges on Scarlet Fury, who brings their hands up just in time to grab at its mouth, ripping apart its mouth as it screeches.

_ “Min, what the  _ **_fuck_ ** _ are you doing, take that fucking leap!”  _ Yixing yells at them, leaving decorum behind just as he and Yifan activate their laser whip in one hand, and a deadly sharp saber in the other.

“But-”

_ “This is  _ **_literally_ ** _ what we’re here for,”  _ Zitao cuts Chanyeol off, just as Honey Danger stabs the head of the Kaiju, dragging it to a hydrothermal vent, where the molten lava blasts up, the beast thrashing about as its skin is melted off.  _ “We can take care of this. Now go!” _

Their hesitance is mutual, both wanting to do more than just  _ watch,  _ but Minseok remembers, and quietly urges.  _ They’re right. This is why they’re here. Now let’s do what we’re here for. _

Chanyeol looks at him, pausing briefly before he nods, and they trudge forward. 900 meters, 600 meters, 300 meters. The Breach is just visible on their line of sight, burning bright red below and ominous as it  _ breathes  _ the water, in and out, the walls of the rip on the ocean floor moving, as if it were inhaling, exhaling. 

Then, it emerges from the deep trench below, the CAT 5. It’s massive, gargantuan, deserving of its name.  _ Goemul,  _ a monster in its purest form, maybe the most beastly Kaiju Minseok has ever seen, and he’s seen too many for a lifetime. Its head is pronged and misshapen, mouth bellowing and resembling a vacuum, circular levels of daggers for teeth, constantly sucking in water, helpless deep sea creatures finding their way into its mouth. Its body is bloated to an ungodly degree, with limbs and giant tentacles that crush everything it grabs on to, and a three-pronged tail, constantly leaking an acid that floats in the water, and just by looking at it, Minseok knows it’s highly toxic.

Without saying anything, even in the drift, they get in a ready stance almost instantly, together, fists raised up to attack.

It lunges, rushing towards them, and they raise their hands to grab its prongs, but it’s unparalleled in strength, pushing forward and Minseok and Chanyeol grunt aloud as they struggle to keep it from attacking them. The Kaiju pushes, and November Star’s feet drags along the ocean floor, until they’re much too far away from the Breach.

_ Luck Maneuver,  _ Minseok says, and they move together, bringing the monster’s head down as they bring up a knee, hitting  _ hard  _ onto the monster’s jaw, and Minseok deploys the sword lightning quick, bringing it up to stab the beast in the neck.

It screams, roars as it thrashes, manages to knock them down to the ground, rearing its head and exposing its jagged teeth to them, making to clamp down on their head, but Chanyeol leads them to grab it. 

“Pull it apart,” he says, and they grit their teeth as they put every strength they have into holding on to the prongs, the horns on its head, and tearing them apart, more and more, until the crack of its bones is heard.

The creature screams in agony, and claws at them, crushing them to the seafloor, and they groan in unison, unable to throw it off and get back on their feet.

“Chest cannon,  _ now,”  _ Minseok says, and they fire a blast from the central reactor in the Jaeger’s chest; it’s not the strongest weapon, but it’s enough to burn a hole in the Kaiju’s softer underbelly. It screams in pain as it thrashes off them, and they take the moment to activate their sword once again, rearing back to aim and slash off its head, but the monster wraps a tentacle around the Jaeger’s waist,  _ crushing  _ them, and it throws them off. 

“Brace yourself for impact,” Minseok shouts, and they fly through the water, not quite far, but they land hard enough on a small cliff that the whole structure disintegrates into smaller rocks and shards, and the Conn-Pod is shaken severely, everything going haywire inside, and every part of their body in pain.

_ “November Star, do you copy,”  _ Jongdae says through the comms,  _ “Marshal! Chanyeol, do you copy?” _

“I’m okay,” Minseok breathes, groaning as he lies still, gets his bearings. “Just, fuck, give me a second, I can control it-”

_ “Marshal, it’s Chanyeol. He’s out of alignment,”  _ Jongdae says urgently.  _ “He’s way out of phase, he’s going to chase the rabbit.” _

Minseok’s chest drops, and he looks to his side. Chanyeol is staring straight ahead, face blank, and his eyes wide with fear.

“Chanyeol,” he tries, “Chanyeol, don’t chase it, please. Don’t chase it, stay with me-”

But it’s too late, and he sees it flashing through his own eyes as Chanyeol chases, and he sees her. 

“Come on, baby bro, that can’t be it,” a laugh, bright, and she’s beautiful. Chanyeol’s image, through and through, smart, Chanyeol’s right hand, and even in the mechanical interior of the old November Star, she’s bright, easy in the face of a raging sea and a giant Category 4 and 5, the biggest that ever was, until the next one. 

“Speak for yourself, sis,” Chanyeol says, laughing, and Minseok breathes sharply. He’s so  _ different,  _ so light in his soul, so happy, like there’s nothing to weigh on his shoulders. Minseok wants to whisk him away, away from the future, away from all this pain. 

_ Chanyeol,  _ he tries again,  _ Chanyeol. Stay with me, don’t chase her- _

A Kaiju charges forward, body hulking and it’s relatively small head parting its jaws, and they lunges, sinking November Star’s blade deep into the beast’s belly, dragging down, down, blue blood spilling and cascading over the water and they push in deeper, together, further and further, until the sword pierced through the monster’s scaly hide, emerging out of its back. 

They’re a wonder duo, the Park siblings. Yoora leading with her grace, and Chanyeol a solid foundation, the strength that powers them both through, and it’s art, the way they attack. One blow, and another, and the movements aren’t wasted, aren’t second-guessed. 

Minseok had known of them, have heard of them. How could he not; Yoora and Chanyeol were the best, the young prodigies from Seoul that balanced each other out, barely a few years into fighting and they had almost matched the kill record to beat, looking to make history with this one.

They’re too confident, the pinks and corals of the Manila sunset casting an ephemeral glow over the battle, and Minseok almost can’t stomach it. 

Knowing how it ends, knowing what happens, it makes Minseok all that more desperate to get Chanyeol out of there. He shouldn’t have to live it a second time. 

“Chanyeol,” he tries, but Yoora and Chanyeol are dragging their arms up, higher, ripping the Kaiju in two. 

“Piece of cake,” Yoora smiles, and they turn to face the other Kaiju, a massive Category 5 that is fast, faster than any previous Kaiju before it, but the siblings aren’t phased. 

They activate both swords on either hand, and charge at it fearlessly, lunging with every strength they have. They collide with the beast, and manage to stab its leg, twisting the blade even more and bright blue blood oozes out of the wound they’ve made.

The Kaiju bellows, and retaliates in kind by bringing its head down and biting through November Star’s right arm, ripping it off cleanly and crushing the metal with its razor-sharp teeth.

Minseok feels it, the way Chanyeol feels it all, his sister’s pain, her fear, how foreign it feels, because Yoora was never frightened, she never let her guard down, she was never powerless in front of any monster that comes their way.

But she clutches her arm, and the pain of the Jaeger’s limb going cold feels real. 

“Yoora,” Chanyeol says, worry in his voice, and she girts her teeth, trudging forward still. Minseok feels the lick of anger in Chanyeol’s chest, strong, clouding his mind, and he makes to fire the plasma cannon. Aims for the Kaiju’s chest, making to kill, but even as the first blast hits it, creating a crater-like wound where its heart should be, the beast shows no great signs of being weakened. 

Terror, deep in Minseok’s chest, as he watches through Chanyeol’s eyes, as the Kaiju picks up the Jaeger, as if they weighed nothing, crushing their waist in its claws, and throws them like a rag doll, far, farther, deep into the city, and November Star collides painfully with a skyscraper, steel beams and concrete and glass crashing down on top of them. It’s a domino effect, as the other surrounding structures fall on top of them, crushing them below the weight of them all, the Manila skyline falling one after the other.

Yet, that’s not the most painful part. Chanyeol feels it, a shriek, fear and pain compounding and filling his brain and the drift, and then. Nothing, aching and silent, and Minseok’s chest pounds, knows what it means.

Chanyeol comes to, breathing slowly, dread filling his chest. He looks to the side, and cries out.

Yoora is gone, lifeless among the cables, the force of the collision so strong she had flown out of the connection as they landed.

Minseok can’t breathe, watches as Chanyeol cries, feels the ache of being so suddenly alone, screaming and crying as he feels the loss, being connected as she died.

To know what death feels like, yet not be the one gone. It’s punishing, wholly emptying of his soul. 

He cries, louder, and a rage fills him. And Minseok watches as he pushes through, trudges through, doing the impossible. Getting the Jaeger to push away the debris on top of it, alone. Pained, grieving, alone.

Chanyeol screams in agony as the load of piloting such a massive titan on his own almost overwhelms him, but he persists, standing, getting ready to fight.

Alone.

Minseok knows, intimately, how that feels. 

He never wants Chanyeol to experience it again. 

“Chanyeol,” he says, moving closer, closer still, until he pulls Chanyeol into his arms, trying to pull him away from staring at the Kaiju coming to attack him. “Chanyeol. That’s enough.”

Chanyeol breathes, breathes harder still, eyes dead set on the monster before him, the monster he had already faced, he had already killed, all those years ago.

“Don’t chase,” Minseok says, hugging him still. Pulls back, leans his helmet against Chanyeol’s, and breathes with him. “You don’t need to do this again. Don’t chase. You’re not alone.”

He hears the sob Chanyeol makes, and he holds him tighter, lets him feel him, reminds him that he’s there. 

“You have Jongin,” Minseok says, tilting Chanyeol’s head down to look at him. There are tears on his face, and pain lining every inch of his skin. Minseok’s heart breaks. “You have me.”

And it’s almost enough. His Chanyeol breaks through, and cries more, clutching him, holding on to him. 

“Let’s fight,  _ together,”  _ Minseok says, letting him take every comfort he needs. “Let’s go. Baby, let go.”

And Chanyeol does. 

.

_ “-Marshal? Marshal, Chanyeol, is he-” _

“I’m okay,” Chanyeol replies to Jongdae, and Minseok looks at him. His face is wet with tears, and there is a slight tremble in his hands, but he’s so, so strong. Minseok cannot be prouder of him. “Sorry about that. Where is it?”

_ “On your nine o’clock, it’s coming on fast,”  _ Jongdae warns them, and they get back to standing on their feet, gearing up to face it again.

Minseok almost misses it, but there’s a soft voice in their drift.  _ Thank you.  _ He looks to his side, and Chanyeol looks back, shaken still, but there is a fierce love, gratitude between them in the neural handshake. 

He breathes, and nods.  _ Let’s go. _

And they charge for it, and they collide with the Kaiju, hooking November Star’s arms under until they have it in a lock. They struggle to stay on their feet as it thrashes about, but they hold their own, grunting and swearing until the moment is right.

The beast moves  _ just so,  _ arching back and exposing its teeth at them, and Chanyeol shouts,  _ “Now!” _

They deploy the swords, the blades emerging from their wrists, and the Kaiju  _ screams  _ as its body is deeply embedded with their swords. 

It screams in a way they can’t decipher, over and over, and Minseok realizes it’s a code, and his chest races. 

“We have to kill it,  _ now,”  _ he says, can’t let it finish, and Chanyeol nods next to him. They grit their teeth, struggling to push the swords deeper into the monster, and it slowly, surely, weakens. Its voice diminishes, and its arms begin to limp, and they take the chance, crossing their arms, crossing the blades inside the beast, and pushing them apart, tearing the Kaiju’s body into pieces.

_ “Star, go, go, go now,”  _ Jongdae says, and they struggle to breathe, but keep moving, forward and further, back to where the Breach is glowing red, ominous. 

They’re almost there, so close to  _ finishing it,  _ getting everyone home. And it keeps them moving. Closer, closer,  _ closer. _

30 meters to the drop. They trudge forward, just a few more steps, but then they discover what that call was for.

_ “Marshal, Chanyeol,  _ **_look out-”_ **

They don’t even have the time to look back to see what comes for them, when something crashes onto their back, claws coming around November Star’s waist and  _ sinking in  _ its talons and Minseok and Chanyeol both shout, unable to move as the Kaiju grabs a hold of them on either side. 

_ “It’s Buwaya, it ran off in the middle of the fight. We’re coming to assist,”  _ Sehun says through the comms. 

_ “Devilback is dead. We’re coming too,”  _ Yixing says, but Minseok knows they won’t make it in time, they’re both much too far from where they are.

He thinks quickly, quickly, but Chanyeol is quicker, pressing a few buttons on their control screen and shouting, “Activating rib darts!”

November Star’s sides open to reveal hundreds of small holes lining the exterior, and shards of razor sharp darts shoot out from them, piercing the monster’s skin, injecting it with lethal poison.

It screeches, letting them go, and they turn to point both plasma cannons on it, aiming, taking fire. Then again, and again, as they step forward, farther and away from the Breach, watching as it howls with every blast they aim on it, wounds growing larger and toxic blood swirling through the water around it as it dies, slowly. 

They power up for the last hit, the one to kill it, but just as they’re about to fire, it lunges forward, barrelling into them, and they dragged along the floor, diving down, until they fall over the edge of the Breach and fall in. 

_ “Marshal! Chanyeol!” _

The Kaiju roars at them, raises a great big claw and brings it down on to November Star’s head,  _ hard,  _ and Minseok and Chanyeol are knocked back by the impact. Minseok feels the back of his head smash against the backboard, even through the helmet, and his vision blacks out, and suddenly, he’s not there anymore.

_ Marshal, Minseok,  _ Chanyeol’s distressed voice flitters through his consciousness. A sound, a blade being wielded, the gruesome noises of it slashing through thick flesh. A Kaiju roaring in pain, then suddenly quiet, the sword completing its mission.  _ Minseok, Minseok, wake up. Don’t chase it, don’t chase the rabbit. Stay with me, Minseok- _

_ “Typhoon Ninety, please report in,”  _ Jongdae’s voice comes through the comms, sounding far and away.

“It’s done,” Minseok reports, and there’s a bright voice in his head, laughing, and he smiles with it. Looks to his left, and there he is, smile achingly bright, eyes sparkling, the most beautiful light in his sky.

“That’s Typhoon’s nineteenth kill,” Luhan’s voice is melodious, and it sings through Minseok’s chest, warming his soul, and his cheeks pink when Luhan looks at him, his smile infectious. “That’s the new record, isn’t it?”

_ “It is,”  _ Kyungsoo had been there too, Minseok remembers, but his present is becoming all the more unclear.  _ “Congratulations.” _

“We’ll be returning to post,” Minseok says, “Keep the gates open, well be there soon.”

_ “Copy,”  _ they say, and Minseok turns the comms off. Luhan sings in their connection, and Minseok rolls his eyes, staring at the damage they’ve caused. 

The city is a wreck beneath them, and he sighs, “This is going to be a nightmare to report.”

“Make an abridged version, like I do,” Luhan grins at him. 

Minseok glares at him, hard.  _ I’m the one who has to fix those reports, you idiot. _

_ You know you don’t have to fix them, no one actually reads those things except you and Yixing,  _ Luhan says, and Minseok sighs again. 

Luhan is many things, an amazing fighter, the one ranger in their group who can and will always get a score of 100 on their secret karaoke nights out in the city away from the Shatterdome, his left hand, Typhoon Ninety’s other half, and foremost, a perpetual pain in Minseok’s neck. 

“Hey, it’s an  _ honor  _ to be the pain on your neck,  _ Marshal  _ Kim,” he teases, clearly having heard what Minseok’s thoughts of him are, and Minseok glares at him even harder.

“Stop,” he says, but he’s unable to control his blush, and Luhan laughs, their neural bridge turning pink between them. Everything seems so rosy, and Minseok tries to reel it in, but Luhan is persistent.  _ Don’t, don’t hide it. _

“You deserve that promotion,” Luhan says, and his smile turns soft, tender. Minseok feels his cheeks flush, and he turns away, but it’s moot, his mind exposed to Luhan in the drift. “They better give it to you.”

“It’s not set in stone yet,” he says, “there are a lot of other worthy candidates-”

“No one is better in my eyes,” Luhan says, and when he says shit like that. Minseok really has no chance, even though it’s because Luhan is just innately flirty. 

He had no chance from the beginning. There would be no future where he would not fall for him.

“Tell me,” Luhan says slowly, as they trudge through the debris together, going back to their post. “Is that all I am? Karaoke master, Kaiju-killer, the best co-pilot?”

“Never said you were the best,” Minseok mutters, and Luhan mock-gasps, but their mental link is softening, turning pastel-hued, and Minseok tries not to read into it too much. 

“Well,  _ you’re  _ the best,” Luhan tells him, his beam gentle. “Best partner, no one kicks Kaiju ass like you. You’re the best.”

Minseok blushes, tries to brush off his flattery coolly, “I know I am.”

“I’m too lucky, that you’re my drift partner,” Luhan says, no hint of teasing in his voice, and his smile grows ever softer, gentler, and Minseok is overwhelmed with how he seems to make no effort to hide anything. 

He says nothing, then, trekking through the remains of the city. He and Luhan find that they don’t really need to talk much. Maybe it’s the way they know each other so well, having drifted so many times, maybe it’s the way they’re both naturally quiet, and they understand that about each other. Maybe it’s because they both have a mutual respect that goes beyond affection, bordering something else.

Whatever it is, Minseok treasures it greatly, even with all the teasing, jokes, and stupid shit Luhan says at times. Treasures it even more when Luhan reaches out, his hand tangling their fingers together, his touch soft.

“Won’t you tell me?” Luhan asks him, smiling still. He’s eternally beautiful.

Minseok tries to calm his heart. Asks, “Tell you what?”

“You know. I’ve told you already, how I felt,” he answers, and Minseok knows. Feels the rush of that day in their shared neural load, Luhan beneath him, sweaty, naked, breathing as he calms his heart. The prettiest, most beautiful person, his torso streaked with his own come, his cock spent, laying on his belly, and he’s curling his arms around Minseok’s shoulders and pulling him down to embrace him, kissing his mouth with a sweetness that makes Minseok’s chest ache.

Minseok pulls out of him, slowly, kissing Luhan’s brow as he winced, his ass clenching around him as he goes, his come leaking out of his hole, and they’re both filthy, in need of a little wash up. But Minseok can’t make himself move, when Luhan looks at him like  _ this, _ so fondly, so warmly, and it makes Minseok’s chest race, and the words had fallen so easily from his mouth.

_ “I love you,”  _ Luhan had told him then, searing into Minseok’s mind, striking him speechless. He can’t answer, doesn’t even know what to say, but Luhan seems to understand, smiling kindly, and pulling him in even closer,  _ “My tiny lil Minnie-” _

_ “I can crush you and you know it,”  _ Minseok tells him, no hint of irony. Luhan laughs.

“Hmm, that’s my favorite memory, too,” Luhan says, grinning, and Minseok stares at him, unable to say anything still. Even through the Pons helmet, he’s the most beautiful. “But, all that aside. You know I’d wait for you.”

“Wait for what?”

Luhan gives him a look, amused but exasperated. “Are you being cute on purpose?”

“I,” Minseok starts, blinking away his embarrassment, feels instead pure love overwhelm him. “Lu.”

“Take your time,  _ Marshal,” _ he says with a small smile. “I know it takes a lot to-”

“I love you,” Minseok says in one breath, and the drift turns bright pink, almost as pink as his face. His heart is racing in his chest, and he’s so, so, immensely overwhelmed. 

Luhan stares at him, stunned momentarily.

And then, he smiles, blindingly beautiful, making every other smile before it pale in comparison. And Minseok falls in love, all over again, as easily as that. 

“I love you. Have for a long time, even through the Changmin debacle,” Luhan says, and Minseok punches him, making him laugh. Then, his expression goes so achingly soft, so tender, and he says, “I love you, Min. Love you, a lot,” he says gently, and Minseok breathes, tries to take it all in. He’s so, so  _ happy,  _ feels it in the drift, their mutual joy, such a gorgeous, wonderful feeling.

Luhan takes his hand, brings it up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. Realizes the helmet is in the way, the  _ idiot,  _ and Minseok laughs at him, before he’s not laughing anymore as Luhan holds his hand close, cradling it near his face, looking so content, so  _ happy,  _ the most tender moment. 

He’s so,  _ so, so  _ happy. Did not think there could be a joy like this.

“Ah, the light’s blinking,” Luhan says, looking at the red pulsing light of the communicator, the other side trying to get a hold of them,  _ how rude,  _ right in this glorious moment.

“Ignore it,” Minseok says, and Luhan looks at him in shock.

“You? Ignoring rules and protocol?  _ For me?!” _ he says, and Minseok rolls his eyes at him, leaning forward to lean their forehead together, though their helmets get in the way. “If this is what love makes you do-”

“You’re impossible,” Minseok says, and Luhan laughs, pushing him away so he can answer the comms. “Yes, what is it-”

_ “Min! Han, we’re picking up another signature-” _

“What?” Minseok says, looking at Luhan, who stares back, their rosy-hued drift clearing up the fog instantly with those sobering words. He looks at their own screens, and he replies, “There’s nothing on our radars, are you sure?”

_ “Yes, it’s a Category 5, right on top of you!” _

“But we don’t see anything,” Luhan says, but right then, it comes raining on them like a storm.

The first hit comes from above, and their Jaeger is knocked to the ground, taking a few low-lying buildings along with them. 

_ “Fuck,”  _ he swears, and Luhan is swearing similarly next to him, coughing. 

And they see it. A gargantuan Category 5, winged, beak pointed and long curling out of its mouth. 

He and Luhan get to their feet, and he leads, “Activate plasma cannon!”

And they fire, aiming for the monster. They manage to hit its wings, its belly, and it shrieks, deafeningly loud, and swoops down on them, the sharpest point of its beak piercing Typhoon Ninety’s waist.

They groan in unison, feeling the pain where it had hit their Jaeger, and they fire again, activating their chest cannons. Miniature missiles fly out of the Jaeger, exploding on the Kaiju’s body, and Minseok looks at Luhan, still calm, fighting with everything he has. 

_ Marshal,  _ another voice is in his head then. Clearer, but still far away.  _ Marshal, let go, you’ve already lived through this once. Come back to me- _

“Activating sabers,” Luhan shouts, and the blades emerge from the Jaeger’s wrists, glintingly sharp. They raise their arms, ready to attack, and the Kaiju is already half dead, their previous blows leaving it weakened, bleeding all over the city debris it struggles to fly over. A few more hits, and it’s done. The usual.

It swoops down, and they bring their blades up. They stab the beast’s side, but the Kaiju grabs the arm piercing into it with its talons, and  _ crushes  _ the metal, wailing as it rips it cleanly off the Jaeger’s body.

Minseok  _ feels, hears,  _ Luhan’s pain, as he screams and clutches his arm, the phantom rip of the arm going cold leaving his arm shocked, unable to move.

“We’ve been hit,” Minseok says into the comms, and he’s  _ angry.  _ No one, nothing, can hurt his partner, he won’t allow it. 

He moves into position,  _ Dose Maneuver.  _ It’s not failed them before, and he makes the lift the Jaeger’s body up, knock the Kaiju down. But he doesn’t count for it leaping out of their reach, grabbing on to their leg, and  _ ripping it off,  _ at the knee, throwing out the limb mercilessly.

Minseok feels the shock of the pain, so quick, so excruciating, he forgets to even scream. He leans down, clutching his leg above the knee where Typhoon Ninety had taken the hit, and he knows his leg is broken by feel alone. 

“Min, Minseok,” Luhan says, face full of concern. His hand finds his, grips tightly. “Min. Come on. We need to finish it.”

_ Marshal, come back to me- _

“Okay,” he says, breathing slowly, looking at his love’s eyes, and their neural handshake turns a bright, fierce red. “Let’s go, let’s finish it-”

_ “Marshal,”  _ Minseok blinks, and there’s someone else in the Conn-Pod, someone only he can see.  _ “Marshal, I love you. Please, please don’t put yourself through this again-” _

“Let’s go,” Luhan says, and Minseok breathes. Would follow him anywhere.

They struggle to get on their foot, balancing with the other arm and the saber stabbing into the ground as their crutch, and they keep going, gazes set on the monster in front of them. 

“Fire  _ now,”  _ Minseok says, and the missiles fly out of their chest, out of their plasma cannons, out of every weaponized body part Typhoon Ninety has. 

It lands, and the Kaiju screeches, a massive bleeding hulk, close to death.

It’s supposed to be over, but. But, terror, terror Minseok never knew he would have to face. 

The Kaiju screams, and brings up a claw to the head, to their pod. Crushes the metal, and they shout together. 

_ No, no, no, no- _

“Han, Han, listen to me,” Minseok faces Luhan, who looks at him, and it’s like a memory, and Minseok feels out of his body, watching it all from the outside. 

Luhan looks scared, but his eyes still bright, just for him. 

Then, a shout, as the Kaiju rips through, and then the Conn-Pod is split in two. It throws the other half, and Minseok watches, horrified, as Luhan goes. Feels Luhan’s fear, his pain, his panic, his helplessness, his love, and then. Nothing. 

He’s gone. 

Minseok’s tears are instant, and his screams of anguish follow soon after. His whole body  _ aches,  _ his heart and soul the most pained of all. He can’t believe this. He can’t. He can’t.

_ Don’t leave,  _ Minseok tells him. His chest is battered, painful, this memory is so much.  _ Don’t leave. Luhan, stay- _

He’s filled with anger, so much of it. Grieving, so  _ despaired.  _ His whole world ripped right from him.

He glares at the Kaiju, angry that it’s still alive. Takes control of the cannon, and fires at the beast’s chest. 

It screams. He doesn’t stop.

“Minseok.”

He blinks, and he’s there. The person from earlier. He comes closer, his face full of compassion, kindness, love. “Minseok, that’s enough. You’ve lived through this already.”

His whole self is in pain. He cries, and this person takes his hand. Pulls him in, and cups his face. 

_ Chanyeol,  _ Minseok takes the deepest breath, and he can’t stop crying.  _ Chanyeol. _

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol says, holding him, not letting go. “Don’t drown yourself. It’s okay. You don’t have to anymore. Let’s go.”

He cries, sobs in his helmet, and Chanyeol is patient, so patient, so beautiful. So, so beautiful. 

He closes his eyes, and squeezes Chanyeol’s hands, and. Accepts it, finally.

He lets go.

_ Goodbye. I love you. _

_. _

“Minseok, Minseok.”

He opens his eyes, and Chanyeol is looking at him, hand stretched out and his fingers entangled with his. His eyes are wet, like he’d been crying along with him, feeling everything, and Minseok loves him fiercely. 

He sobs, and breathes, trying to get a grip on himself. 

“Sorry,” he gasps, his heart beating out of his chest. “I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol says, “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I understand.”

Minseok cries, cries a little more. Chanyeol holds his hand, waits for him, and Minseok. Minseok should have known, should never have underestimated his strength. 

He’s always feared drifting again, going back into a neural handshake, feared having to face this memory. Had his apprehensions, drifting with Chanyeol, unsure if he could handle Chanyeol’s loss, and his own loss, wondered if he could be strong enough to pull them out of both. 

He’d been foolish to think that Chanyeol was not strong enough himself to pull him out of his own cage. He’s been wrong. 

Chanyeol is calm, in the drift, and holding his hand. Minseok latches on to him, and breathes.

It’s a minute before Chanyeol asks him, “Are you okay?” 

He takes a minute to calm his heart some more. The drift is bright between them, softening slowly as Chanyeol gives him comfort. Minseok feels his chest warm, and everything hurts, but it eases surely, and Chanyeol is patient the whole way through.

“I’m okay,” he answers, and he squeezes his hand. “Thank you.”

Chanyeol’s gaze is gentle, affectionate when he replies, “Of course. I, I would do anything for you, you know.”

Minseok did. And now, he really believed it. 

“What happened?” he asks, and Chanyeol glances to the screen, where the severed remains of the Kaiju are just a ways off from where November Star had landed. 

Minseok remembers falling through the fissure of the Breach. He starts, “We’re in? How?”

“The genetic code of the Kaiju read through, and let us in along with it,” he answers, “I dragged us over to a hidden spot while you were out.”

Minseok looks at him, gratitude filling his body. “That must have been hard on you. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Chanyeol says, his smile soft. “You pulled me out earlier. It must have been difficult.”

Minseok shakes his head, and Chanyeol’s mind is warm, a balm in the drift, understanding, and giving him strength. 

He takes the moment to breathe, take it all in. Breathes, and says, “Let’s end it. For everyone. Let’s get everyone home.”

Chanyeol nods, and they groan as they get up, November Star awakening, moving towards where the monsters lay.

And it’s nothing short of terrifying. Kaiju, even larger and more gruesome looking than the beasts that have gone up above the surface, in their multitudes, laying about in the electrically charged water, hungry, waiting to take over and biding their time.

Not when Minseok is alive.

_ “Marshal, Chanyeol,”  _ Jongdae comes through the comms,  _ “Are you in position?” _

“Almost,” Chanyeol replies, treading through with care, “There must be thousands down here. They’re enormous.”

_ “You have to activate soon,”  _ Kyungsoo says,  _ “You’re too far down, the air pressure is going to get really thin. Your oxygen levels are already running low.” _

“Noted,” Minseok says, and they watch, a few of the Kaijus coming together, communicating in a strange fashion. “Byun would  _ love  _ dissecting these monsters, they’re  _ disgusting.” _

_ “Don’t make me jealous now, Marshal,”  _ Baekhyun says then, and Chanyeol bites his lips to hold in his laugh, but his chuckle is clear in the drift. Minseok smiles at him.  _ “But Soo isn’t kidding, you have less than 40% oxygen left.” _

“Got it, making our move now,” Chanyeol says, and he and Minseok come out, firing immediately, gliding to get into position in the midst of it all.

The Kaijus are rattled only for a moment, before they charge at them, their hides peeling back as they expose their monstrous faces at them, attacking in turn.

_ “Star, get into position-” _

“We’re doing our best, thank you Jongdae,” Minseok says, struggling to slice through some of the Kaijus as they charge forward to where they need to be. 

They’re overwhelmed almost immediately, but the Kaijus inadvertently bring them to the center as they rip at them, claw at them, and they’re right where they planned, ready to take it all down.

“In position!” Chanyeol shouts, and Minseok immediately makes to start the core meltdown.

“Initiating reactor override,” Minseok says, pressing at the screen, but. 

_ ‘Malfunction,’  _ the system says mechanically, and Minseok feels Chanyeol’s heart drop with his in the drift.  _ ‘Manual Activation Required.’ _

“Fuck,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok is blank, trying to think of ways how to do this. 

_ “What’s going on?”  _ Baekhyun is saying, urgent, anxious on the other side.  _ “Why can’t they detonate?” _

_ “Fuck, it’s the auto override,”  _ Kyungsoo says,  _ “Marshal, the trigger’s offline-” _

“I thought you fixed it?” he says, and they don’t have much time, if any, at this point. 

_ “It’s too damaged from the fight,”  _ he answers, words bleeding together as he speeds his tone,  _ “You’re going to have to do it by hand.” _

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and Minseok feels his heart race in the drift, but his expression is as calm as he can make it. “Okay, we got it. We’ll activate manually and eject with the pods, have the choppers ready to come find us-”

Then, time stops. He stops speaking, gasping in a breath as a Kaiju’s claws sinks  _ deep  _ into the Jaeger’s sides, and Minseok feels it. The cut from oxygen flow, his cables sliced, and Minseok’s heart sinks, his whole body frozen in dread and fear. 

_ No, not you. Not you too- _

“Shit,” Chanyeol coughs, “Shit, they cut the cables-”

Minseok feels his fear, his helplessness, and  _ no, no, no, no, please. _

His own heartbreak overwhelms anything else in the drift, and Minseok can’t take it. He won’t take it.

_ “Marshal, his oxygen level is too low,”  _ Kyungsoo is saying, urgent, but low,  _ “He, he won’t make it-” _

“He will,” he says, and Chanyeol blinks slowly, his grip growing weak. Minseok can’t. Not him. 

He breathes deeply, and it’s not even a thought to him. Chanyeol over his own life, any day. 

He unhooks his own oxygen supply, replaces Chanyeol’s cable with slow movements, already feeling the effects.

_ “Min,”  _ it’s Junmyeon speaking into the comms. He sounds near tears.  _ “Min, don’t do this-” _

“Have to,” he says, and the monsters still come. Minseok won’t let them take him. “I, I’m sorry.”

_ “Minseok-” _

“Marshal, what, what are you doing,” Chanyeol says, voice a little dazed as he tries to push his hand away, but Minseok hooks him in, will do anything to get him out of there, alive.

_ “What’s happening?”  _ And Minseok’s chest throbs painfully, tears springing to his eyes when Jongin’s voice is heard through the comms, faint in the background, worried.  _ “What - Marshal?” _

“Activating Pilot 1 Evacuation Pod,” Minseok says, pressing the button, and suddenly Chanyeol is alert again, eyes widening as he realizes what’s happening, what Minseok is trying to do.

“No, no, Minseok,  _ no,”  _ he says, and Minseok closes his eyes as he shouts, shouts for him to let him out, to  _ not do this. _ “Minseok,  _ please-” _

“I can end this, alone,” he says, and he feels the way Chanyeol breaks down in the drift, crying loudly, heart breaking and devastation taking over his whole being, beating and punching weakly at the pod that activates around him, ready to ascend. “I’ll get you home.”

_ “Marshal, you promised,”  _ Jongin’s voice is closer, and they’re both in tears. Chanyeol is screaming through the pod, and Jongin is sobbing through the comms, and Minseok closes his eyes. Is hurting them again.  _ “You said, you’d come back, you said-” _

“I’m sorry, Nini,” Minseok says, regret filling him up. “I’m sorry, sweet boy, I’m sorry-”

_ “No, no, no,”  _ Jongin keeps repeating, crying,  _ “Come home, come back to us-” _

“Please don’t do this,” Chanyeol sobs, and he sounds shattered, his voice thick with his tears. The drift is tinted the deepest of blues, and Minseok comes closer, pressing his forehead to the glass of the pod where Chanyeol’s face is visible, and Chanyeol cries, Jongin cries.

Minseok breathes deeply, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes silently. 

“You’re my world,” he says, gasping between words. “You both are.”

_ “And you’re ours,”  _ Jongin says, crying still.  _ “Please, please don’t do this.” _

“I need to, to save you both,” he says. His hands tremble, and he clenches them into fists, “To save you all.”

“I can do that with you,” Chanyeol cries, and he’s sobbing hard between his words, looking deeply devastated. “Please, please don’t do this to us. We need you, _ we love you.” _

_ “We love you, Minseok,”  _ Jongin says, pleads with him. Minseok breathes, breathes.  _ “Please, please don’t leave us.” _

He cries, tears running down his cheeks, so much of it that it blurs the glass of his helmet. He cries, cries.

He didn’t think anything would be as painful as having his love ripped away from him. But he’d been wrong. 

His soul is shattered, now, as he leaves his loves. 

“I love you,” he breathes, finally saying the words aloud, exhaling it with as much truth as he can. They both sob, and Chanyeol bangs at the glass of his pod as it slowly ascends, as hard as he can, powering through the little oxygen he’d been given. “I love you both,  _ so much. _ I love you. I love you.”

“Minseok,” Chanyeol cries, and Minseok sobs as he activates the evacuation sequence for his pod. This  _ hurts,  _ like nothing else, and he feels Chanyeol’s desperation to get to him, his sadness, his  _ love,  _ all the way through, until he’s ascending to the top of the Conn-Pod, crying, crying still. 

He watches as the Pod is ejected from the Jaeger, still as he floats up rapidly through the water, through the Breach, to safety, far away from here, and he closes his eyes, the air thin, making everything hurt that much more.

_ “Minseok,”  _ Jongin cries on the comms.  _ “Minseok.” _

“I’ll end this, for you,” Minseok says, struggling to breathe, but he pushes through, unhooking himself from the cables and the bridge, and he clenches his fists through the pain, trudging his way through the Conn-Pod to the manual override. 

Jongin cries, but quiets himself, breathing slowly.  _ “Then I’ll stay with you.” _

“No, Nini-”

_ “I won’t leave you,”  _ Jongin says, and his voice is so soft, hurt, but determined.  _ “I will stay with you. Let me be with you, if at least for this.” _

Minseok cries even more, cannot help it. He’s short on oxygen, his body aches from battle and stress, and he’s overwhelmed, but Jongin is the balm he always has been. Generous, tender, beautiful, giving him comfort. 

“Okay,” he says, crying still as the Conn-Pod lights up in red, danger, the voice repeating,  _ ‘Manual Activation Required.’  _ “Okay. Okay.”

_ “You’re almost there, Marshal,”  _ Jongin says, his voice tinged with sobs, but Minseok leans on him, keeps moving himself forward with Jongin’s encouragement.  _ “Almost there. You’ve done so well.” _

“For you,” he says, struggles through the lack of oxygen, and Jongin sobs. He gets down to the floor, the Jaeger rattled constantly by the Kaijus, and he forces the hatch open. Pulls the door open, and twists the reactor, pushing down on the switch, and the Conn-Pod echoes to him,  _ ‘Manual Override initiating. Core meltdown in T minus 90 seconds.’ _

He breathes, and exhales, and it’s relief, acceptance. 

He did it.

It will all be over soon. For Luhan. For Chanyeol, for Jongin, for everyone in the Shatterdome. For everyone lost. 

They did it.

_“Marshal, get to your evac pod_ ** _now,”_** Kyungsoo is saying. _“I’ll try to find a way to get you a few last blasts of oxygen in there-”_

“Thank you, Soo,” he says, and he’s getting more and more lightheaded, and he closes his eyes when he gets back in place, locking his feet in place and preparing the Pod for evacuation, but he feels it in his chest, that he won’t make it. “You’ve done well. All of you. Thank you.”

_ ‘Shut up, Min, we’re getting you out of there,”  _ Baekhyun says, but Minseok hears it in his voice. He’s unconvinced himself, his tone wavering as he holds in tears, his worry. And Minseok thanks him quietly, his voice too tired to say it out loud. 

He hears it, on the comms, Jongin crying to Kyungsoo and Jongdae,  _ “Get him back, please find a way-” _

_ “There’s not enough time,”  _ Jongdae is saying, sounding tearful.  _ “He won’t get far away enough in time even if we help him now-” _

_ “Please  _ **_try,_ ** _ please try, please-” _

He keeps his eyes closed, and feels the imminent heat as November Star begins its meltdown. The Kaiju in immediate proximity are screaming as they’re scalded already, and Minseok takes the final few breaths, takes it in, preparing to eject still as he’s encased in his pod, but making peace with himself, if he ends up not making it. 

He’s done well. As best as he could.

He hopes they forgive him.

_ Minseok. _

Thirty-five seconds.

_ Minseok, my lil Minnie.  _

It feels, sounds like a memory, but of the realest kind. The brightest eyes, the ones he’d worked so hard to bring justice to, looking at him now, with that smile he’d loved for so long.

_ You’ve been working yourself too hard. You’ve done more than enough. _

“I’ll see you soon,” he breathes out loud to him. A chuckle, the one he’s missed so much, and then.

_ No. You gotta go. They need you. _

Minseok closes his eyes, twenty seconds to go. He feels like he’s being lifted, the Jaeger radiating so much heat. 

“I miss you so much,” he says. “I love you.”

_ I love you too. Now go home, like you promised. _

He breathes once more, and the world goes black.


	4. iv: to wherever, far away

“-I can’t feel his pulse, I, I don’t know if he’s breathing,” someone is sobbing above him. Minseok’s whole body aches, and he’s dizzy as anything and it’s too bright, even with his eyes shut. He feels strangely out of his body, like his soul is hovering somewhere else, but then he feels it. 

Small drops of water, falling on his face, one after the other. Hands on his face, trembling, tender. Desperate sobs, crying, tears, and then lips on his cheeks, wet from crying. Lips on his mouth, and its salty, and he’s given air, life being breathed back into him, flowing from the mouth of the person above him. 

“Please, please, please, I beg you,” they tell him, crying still, and his body is being lifted, reared into an embrace, tight, wet hair falling on to his face and more tears falling onto his neck as his head is cradled tenderly, his body held closely to this person, with so much love. Minseok’s chest aches, his heart slow, but warm, wanting to give this person everything. _Don’t cry._

 _“Chanyeol, it could be his sensors aren’t working,”_ someone in the distance says. _Jongdae,_ Minseok’s memory provides. 

More tears, cries, from the same distance. _Jongin. “Can’t you get anything?”_

 _“I’m trying,”_ someone else says. Kyungsoo. 

A pause. The sound of the sea, right next to him, the waves crashing gentling upon each other. His body floats, and he tries to take a breath.

 _“I. I can’t get anything,”_ and the sobs get louder. 

_“No, no, Marshal. Minseok, please,”_ Jongin cries, and Minseok wants to hold him, so much. Wants to comfort him. 

“No,” Chanyeol says, voice still teary, but he hardens it, but fails. “No, he’s not. He can’t be. He _can’t-”_

“I’m not,” Minseok says, and his voice is weak, and it feels like he’s breathing oxygen for the first time in much too long.

But, it’s enough, and he’s heard. 

Chanyeol pulls back, eyes wide and puffy from crying so profusely. His whole body, even the drivesuit, is soaked through for some reason, then Minseok looks around, and sees they’re on the ocean, surrounded by nothing but water. He sees Chanyeol’s pod floating quite a long bit away from where they are, empty, bright green tint marking the water beneath it to signal the choppers. 

He looks back up at him, Chanyeol staring at him, like he can’t believe that he’s here, and truthfully, Minseok can’t believe it either. 

“Did you swim all the way to get to me?” Minseok asks him, and Chanyeol blinks at him. Then, he cries, tears pouring from his eyes endlessly as he scoots down from where he’d been straddling the top of Minseok’s pod, to get closer, as close as he can, and he pulls Minseok into a tight embrace, like he won’t let go. 

“Why did you do that?” he sobs, leaning back to kiss him, again and again, salty from the sea and his tears. “I thought I’d never, _fuck._ I love you, _I love you.”_

 _“Minseok,”_ Jongin is crying through the comms, and Minseok aches to have him near, with them. _“Minseok, I love you, oh my god.”_

“Nini,” Minseok breathes, and he looks at Chanyeol, who leans his forehead against his, still crying, but his eyes so bright, happy. _Relieved._ “Baby.”

Chanyeol whimpers, kisses him again. Can’t seem to say anything else, just curls up against him and stays close, and Minseok lets him, relief wanting to take over his whole body, but he can’t yet, not until he knows. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

_“The reactor meltdown was successful,”_ Jongdae answers for him, _“It was a direct hit.”_

“The Breach?”

 _“The Breach collapsed, Marshal,”_ Kyungsoo tells him. _“You did it.”_

 _“We_ did it,” he breathes, and he exhales. Closes his eyes, and when Chanyeol cradles his face, tilting his face up and pressing his lips against his, Minseok breathes into it, and kisses him in turn, holding on to him.

It’s over. It’s finally over. 

And yet, his chest is still heavy, tight and aching, for reasons he can’t decipher yet. 

Chanyeol holds him closer, pliant and soft against him, and Minseok stops thinking, and takes a little. 

.

They’re sent to the medical bay when the choppers land back on the Bay, evaluated separately. 

Minseok insists on Chanyeol being checked first for any injuries, and he feels Chanyeol’s eyes on him as he’s wheeled into his private quarters to wait for Junmyeon, the clinic crowded with people and he’s in need of his own air to breathe. 

“You need anything, Min?” Baekhyun asks him, helping him settle on his bed, but Minseok can’t lay still. Shakes his head when Baekhyun pulls back the covers, and he stays seated on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. 

He’s exhausted, in every aspect he can possibly be. 

“How are Yixing and the others?” he asks them, needing something else to fill his mind. “Jongin?”

“They’re all okay,” Baekhyun tells him. “Zitao’s arm took a little beating, and Yifan’s got a few broken ribs, but they’re fine. Noisy, like they usually are. Jongin is doing well. Was more worried about you than he was about himself, really. Almost had to tape him down to his chair so he wouldn’t stress his leg.”

Minseok listens, and he feels his chest race slightly, at the mere mention of Jongin worrying about him. The room spins a bit, and he breathes slowly, counting down silently. 

It’s not long until the door opens, and Junmyeon is coming in, bag with tools and instruments in hand, and Yixing following right behind, who looks worse for wear, but otherwise uninjured. Junmyeon takes a single look at him, before he sighs. Leans down, just to flick his forehead hard.

“Ah,” Minseok winces, pushing his hand away and frowning. “What was that for?”

“Being an impulsive idiot,” he answers, and sniffs. “You really could have died, you know. If Kyungsoo hadn’t found a way to get some oxygen into your pod, or if you evacuated even a second later. You really would have died.”

“Chanyeol was really beside himself, when he came to,” Baekhyun tells him. Minseok’s chest aches. “He wouldn’t let us get him until you were out.”

“You worried all of us,” Yixing says quietly, and Minseok stays still as Junmyeon runs a few tests by him, checking his eyes, his pulse, blood pressure, temperature.

“I’m sorry,” he offers lamely, knowing it’s not enough. “But. As long as he was safe, if I could finish it on my own-”

“He wouldn’t stop crying, Min,” Junmyeon says. “It’s not to make you feel bad, or guilty. But he _loves you._ They both do. Jongin wouldn’t let us take him away either. He wanted to stay with you until the end. Didn’t want you to be alone, even. Even if you died.”

Minseok doesn’t say anything still, his head too full even as Junmyeon hooks him up to some oxygen, looping some tubes and placing a cannula below his nostrils.

“I saw him,” he says, words locking up his throat. They’re all quiet around him. “When I went out of phase. I saw him again. It felt so real.”

“Min,” Yixing says, and Minseok can’t hold it in. He bows his head, and the tears pour out of his mouth, endless, painful. 

“And. I heard him,” he admits, wiping his face, but the tears continue to fall. “Right before I ejected. When I thought I wouldn’t make it. I heard him.”

They don’t say anything for minutes. Then, Baekhyun asks him, in the gentlest tone Minseok’s ever heard him use, “And what did he tell you?”

Minseok stills. 

And then, he sobs, loudly, desperately, and he can’t stop, can’t even pause to speak. 

The bed dips next to him on either side, and there are hands on his thighs, still, patient, kinder than he feels he deserves.

It feels so strange, all of it. He doesn’t know, if he can accept this, if he can let the calm in. He doesn’t know how. He wants it, wants it so much, but he doesn’t know if he can.

_How do I let you go? How do I do this?_

He doesn’t know, and no one answers him.

.

Despite passing out for almost a day after he had gotten back to the Bay, causing a bit of chaos as everyone panicked as he blacked out in the hallways as he was going to the post-evaluation meeting, Minseok is fine. He knows he is, but it doesn’t stop Junmyeon from ordering him to a few days of bed rest, _“I’ll make it a week, if you try to sneak out and work,”_ he had said threateningly, so Minseok is forced to stay in his quarters. While he would normally persist and work anyway, as working gets his mind off things and makes him feel a little more useful, the rest he’d been forced into has, admittedly, been making him feel better. 

It doesn’t do much for the unease of his heart, the questions that cloud his mind still, but Minseok knows enough by now to take it one thing at a time. He’ll take care of his physical health, for now, before tackling everything else.

It’s late, hours after dinner, and he’s sitting at his desk, reading, when there’s a knock on his door. He doesn’t look up, turning a page and answering, “Come in,” knows it must be Junmyeon, doing his last rounds for the day before calling it a night. 

“Marshal?”

It’s not Junmyeon who comes through the door.

He looks up, and Chanyeol and Jongin come in through the door, Chanyeol helping Jongin with his crutches, and they both look so soft, nervous. 

He stands, looking at them both, and his heart is racing, yet somehow, at ease, calming for the first time since they’d come back.

“What, what are you doing here?” he asks them, and his hands tremble slightly. 

“We wanted to check on you,” Jongin says, and his cheeks pink slightly, but his eyes are slightly wet. “We, we heard that you collapsed the other day.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he tells them, trying to give them a small smile. “I overexerted myself, is all. Especially after not having been in a Jaeger for such a long time.”

“We were still worried,” Jongin says, and he sniffs a little Minseok’s chest aches. “We just want you to be okay, you know.”

“I’m sorry,” he tells them, “I’m sorry for worrying you both. I’ll take care of myself better from now on.”

They both look at him, and the air is charged with a heaviness Minseok can’t identify. Not quite uncomfortable, but it’s obvious, clear that they want to say something. That they want him to say something, too. 

“I didn’t know you liked ‘One Piece,’” Chanyeol then notes, and Minseok blinks.

“Ah,” he says, looking down at the comic he’d been reading. He stares down at the page where he’d stopped, and he says, “A friend introduced me to it, a long time ago.”

It’s quiet again, and Minseok looks up. They’re both looking at him, and he doesn’t miss the way they lace their hands together, the way they look at each other, gazes soft and unsure, and he sighs, closing the book, and asking them, “What is it?”

He catches the way they seem to shutter, a nervousness lining their shoulders. It’s Chanyeol who answers, “N-nothing, we just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“You’re resting, Marshal, we should have come another time,” Jongin says, but Minseok steps closer to them, not wanting to leave things like this.

“I’m okay, I’ve rested enough,” he says, and he tries not to look as nervous as he feels. “Please. You can tell me, I’ll listen.”

They look at him, and Minseok can just tell that they have a lot they want to say. He breathes, and hopes he’s brave enough for all of it.

“We know things are still crazy,” Jongin says, voice soft and his words coming slowly, carefully thought out, “and of course we want you to rest. But.”

He pauses, looking down, and Minseok realizes that his eyes are wet, and his lip trembles from the effort to not cry. His heart breaks, but Chanyeol holds Jongin’s hand tighter, and continues on for him, despite the wetness gathered on his own lashes.

“But we thought, after everything, it would all be okay,” he says, and he’s crying too, but he powers through what he wants to say. “I thought, we would figure this out. But, I don’t know why, but. We still feel so distant from you.”

Minseok clenches his hands, and feels himself inhale, holding his breath. Like he’s not allowed to breathe. 

“Minseok,” Jongin says, sniffing between words, his eyes so gentle and teary as he looks at him. “We meant it, when we said we love you. We would wait for you to be ready. You just have to tell us.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he sees the moment they steel their faces, trying not to show him their frustration, their sadness. He’s doing it again, and he _hates it._

_You promised._

And Minseok sucks in another breath.

“Did you mean it, when you said you loved us?” Chanyeol asks him, his beautiful eyes tinged red, his mouth set in a pout he can’t control as the tears spill from his eyes. “That we were your world? Was any of it true?”

Minseok looks at them, his reason for breathing. The reason why he’d come back, and answers, “I meant it.”

“Then why do we feel that nothing has changed?” Chanyeol asks him. His face breaks, when he says, “We, we’ve both seen what you’ve been through, and we accept you. We would walk with you, through it all. Why won’t you let us in?”

And it’s here that Minseok cannot hold it in anymore. A tear falls from his eye, then another, then more and more. “I, I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I want, I _love_ you both so much. I want to let myself, please believe me. But, but I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

“Minseok. Do you want to talk to us about it?” Jongin’s face is so tender, so soft, like it feels everything Minseok feels, and Chanyeol offers his a similar expression, gentle, full of kindness and love, and Minseok cannot help it. 

He cries even harder, his whole face breaking as he sobs, and he tries to hide his face in the crook of his elbow, doesn’t want to appear weak, or like he can’t control himself. 

But, they come to him, even if he tries to shield himself away. And they cradle him together, holding him gently, and they let him cry, crying with him, staying ever so patient. 

Minseok really, truly, does not deserve them.

“I’m sorry,” he says between gasps of breath, sobbing still. “I’m sorry, I’m being a burden.”

“Marshal,” Chanyeol touches his face, catching the tears with his thumb. “Minseok. You’re not.”

“You saw what happened,” he hiccups, and he grieves. “How can I let someone else suffer like that? I. I don’t know what to do.”

“We don’t judge you for what you’ve been through, Minseok,” Jongin tells him, and he leans his forehead against Minseok’s, and he’s crying, but ignoring his own tears to wipe the ones on Minseok’s face. “It must have been hard for you. We’re sorry, that we didn’t find you sooner. That we couldn’t help you earlier.”

“No, that’s. That’s not your responsibility,” he says. “I should deal with my own problems.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t help you, even just a little,” Chanyeol tells him. Minseok’s chest is tight, and the tears won’t stop.

He sobs. Sobs even more, and Chanyeol and Jongin stand strong for him, letting him cry. “I can’t forget him. I don’t know how to.”

“You don’t have to,” Chanyeol promises him. His body is warm, and he pulls Minseok in, holding him, and holding Jongin, and they hold each other. They both embrace him, trying to give him even a small bit of ease, and Minseok trembles, curling into them, trying. 

“We understand,” Jongin says softly. “You have to be kinder to yourself. I know it’s hard, but look at everything you’ve done. You’ve pulled us all through. You brought everyone home. You don’t have to punish yourself anymore.”

His hands shake, but when his head is tilted up gently, he doesn’t resist. Chanyeol’s tendera gaze meets his eyes, he almost cries again immediately. “It hurts,” he says, and there are lips on his forehead, and his chest curls into itself painfully, before unfurling slowly, surely. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know anymore.”

“You don’t have to know now,” Chanyeol’s voice melts his soul, slowly, the pain still present, but it becomes easier to handle, easier to face. “And you don’t have to forget him. Accept it, let it flow, like in the drift. And trust that we will both be here. We’ll hold your hand when it gets hard, and even when it’s easy. We’ll be with you.”

Minseok’s chest is tight, growing ever tighter still, so overwhelmed. But when he cries, it begins feeling a lot more like relief. More like the acceptance he so yearns for. Slow, slow, slow.

“What if. What if I mess up?” he asks, because he can’t stop thinking about it. He knows it’s an inevitability.

A pause, then, “You don’t have to forget him, to move forward,” Jongin tells him. He rubs Minseok’s back, touching his jaw, comforts him quietly, surely. “Whatever your history, we will love you regardless. We might not love you the same way he had, but we will love you with everything we have, in our own ways.”

“We don’t want to replace him, Marshal,” Chanyeol tells him. “We know more one can’t. We just want to love you, and, if you’ll let us, we’d like to be another part of your heart. If we can help you be happy, then we’ll do it.”

_Go home. Like you promised._

Minseok picks up the pieces, slowly. Cries, but it’s slow acceptance, and lightness.

“What do you want to do?” Jongin asks him, his voice healing him a little more.

He breathes. 

_Go home._

He speaks his truth, “I want to love you both,” he says, more tears flowing from his eyes, but two beautiful boys cupping his face in either of their hands, catching the wetness, and he’s overwhelmed. His chest shudders as he continues, “I want to breathe. I want that calm. I want to do everything I can for both of you.”

They’re both crying, and he cries with them. “I want to come home.”

They breathe together, the three of them. “Then let’s do it together,” Jongin tells him. His smile is the prettiest thing, soft, unguarded, wet from tears, but the most beautiful thing. “One thing at a time.”

“Do you want to try?” Chanyeol asks him. His gentle smile is no less beautiful, and Minseok breathes, like it’s the first time he’s ever experienced fresh air. “For us?”

He breathes, slow and sure, and even though the pain doesn’t go away completely, and maybe it never will, he makes peace with it. Knows that even with it there, it’s not going to be a bad thing, forever. He can move forward, carefully, with them. “Yes, for both of you. And for me.”

A breath, and with it, he’s kissed, one by one, Jongin’s lips meeting his softly, his tongue curling shyly against his as he licks his way into his mouth as Chanyeol kisses MInseok’s cheek, cradling his face closely and calming him quietly as he cries. 

He can’t stop, the tears falling and falling, but it’s not as painful as it was. Hope blooms in his chest, fuller and taking root when Chanyeol kisses his lips, tilting his chin up a little more and Minseok tastes kindness, love on his tongue, and Jongin kisses his other cheek, and it’s slow. But Minseok finally feels like he’s allowed, even just slightly. 

When the three of them meet, all their lips coming together finally, it feels like a culmination of weeks. Months. _Years_ of denying himself, of thinking he deserved the punishing ache and grief, and then, forgiveness, hope offered to him by two beautiful men, and he knows not everything will be alright immediately. it will take time to unlearn the unhealthy, unkind, cruel conclusions he’s made about himself. 

But, as their lips meet his, two tongues kitten licking against his bottom lip, before licking into his mouth together, it’s a small reprieve. And that’s all he wants. He can work towards everything else later.

“Marshal,” Jongin starts quietly, leaning against him heavily. His lips are plump, bruised slightly, and his cheeks pink, but his eyes, dark, wanting but gentle still. “Will. Will you stay with us, tonight?”

He’s trembling. Chanyeol is as well, as he reaches down and takes Minseok’s hand in his, but Minseok’s heart is warm, and he squeezes his hand in turn. 

“Yes,” he answers on an exhale, and their eyes are so beautifully bright, so happy.

Jongin pulls him in, and Chanyeol holds them both, and Minseok heals. 

After locking the door, he’s pulled to his bed, where Jongin is seated on the edge, legs stretched out and spread open for him to stand. Jongin holds out his hand for him, and Minseok takes it, careful not to bump into his injured leg, and Jongin holds him close, hiding his face in his belly. 

Arms come up behind him, and Chanyeol buried his face in his neck, kissing the skin exposed, and Minseok’s chest pounds as they both bring their hands down, lifting the hem of his tank top. He fights not to shiver as Jongin leans down to press his plush mouth to his hip, then to just above his belly button, trailing down, down, and before Minseok knows it, he’s inserting his thumbs inside the garter of his pants, pulling down. 

Jongin’s hands are a little rougher than he remembers, but his touch is gentler, taking Minseok’s length and slowly stroking him. 

Minseok bites back his moan, his heart racing as Jongin touches his cock, gets him hard in his grip, and he can’t help but throw his head back on to Chanyeol’s shoulder, the air becoming a little thinner. 

But Chanyeol kisses his jaw, and tilts his head down, murmuring, “He’s being so good for you, look.”

Minseok is afraid he won’t be able to handle it. And he almost can’t, moaning as he watches Jongin darts out his tongue to lick at the head, and he whimpers, overwhelmed on all fronts as Chanyeol slips his hands back under his shirt, reaching up to squeezes at his chest, his fingers teasing and rolling his nipples.

“Ah, _ah,_ Nini,” he moans as Jongin takes his cock into his mouth, inch by inch, wrapping his hand around what can’t fit, and his mouth is so warm, wet, and Minseok can’t look away from him. His gorgeous, plush lips around his length, spit spilling from the corners of his mouth as he sucks him off slowly, and his eyes, blinking so prettily as he looks up at him, steady even as he bobs his head. “Beautiful, beautiful boy.”

Jongin moans around him, and his hands reach up to squeeze Minseok’s ass in his palms, bringing his hips forward into his mouth as he sucks him off. Minseok moans again, can’t stop it from streaming out of his mouth, and Chanyeol moans with him, watching them. He rubs Minseok’s nipples faster, lowers his head to bite into his shoulder, sucking a mark onto his skin and licking over it all, and he rolls his hips forward onto Minseok’s ass, his cock hard beneath his pants.

Minseok can’t breathe, but they hold him, letting him lean on them as he tries to get a grip on himself.

He wants, _so much._

Jongin pulls back, kissing the tip with puckered lips sweetly, before he opens his mouth and lets the head rest on his tongue heavily, and then licking it all over, letting it slap, and Minseok is so hard, so close to coming already.

So, he cups Jongin’s face gently, moving him back off. His eyes are a little dazed, hooded as he looks up at him, and he licks over his lips innocently, but Minseok feels his cock jump at the sight. 

“Come in my mouth,” he says, and Minseok would fall to his knees, overwhelmed, if Chanyeol had not been holding him up. 

“I, I want to fuck you,” he says, turns pink as he whispers the words, but they both moan for him. Chanyeol bites his shoulder, whimpering and thrusting against him, and Jongin pulls his head down, kissing him, licking and panting into his mouth.

He strips Jongin of his shirt before helping him to lay back on his bed, and removing his bottoms carefully, taking care not to jostle his leg too much, and he goes to hover over him, but he’s pulled back into Chanyeol’s strong body, touching him, feeling him up and making him red.

“Can I take off your clothes?” he asks quietly, shyer than his hands suggest, and Minseok blushes, but looks to Jongin, who nods, eyes bright as he leans up on an elbow to watch.

“Okay,” Minseok answers, moaning immediately as Chanyeol fists his cock, squeezing his ass in his other hand, grinding his erection into his crack as he pulls down Minseok’s sleep pants, kicking them away. 

“Oh, you look so good,” Jongin hums, eyes dark as he touches his cock, watching as Chanyeol turns Minseok into his arms, kissing him, their lips molding instantly as they melt on to one another. 

Minseok is overwhelmed, every muscle in his body relaxing, surrendering to Chanyeol’s hands, and his shirt is removed easily, and he’s naked in moments, arching his back and throwing his head back as Chanyeol leans down, getting his mouth on his nipple, sucking on his chest. 

“Oh, _oh,”_ he stutters, gripping tightly on Chanyeol’s shoulders, his body pulled flush to him with Chanyeol’s arms tightly wound around his waist, and Minseok feels the desperation clawing at his whole body.

He balls up Chanyeol’s shirt in his hands, pulling it over his head and throwing it away somewhere before latching his lips onto his, licking and moaning into each other. Jongin moans with them, watching as Minseok strips Chanyeol of his remaining clothes, and they grind against each other, grabbing and touching incessantly.

“Fuck,” Chanyeol breathes, and Minseok almost can’t breathe. Chanyeol moves them over to the bed, and kisses him, before kissing Jongin. They are so sweet together, soft, mouths meeting naturally, like they were always meant to be.

And Minseok feels gratitude in his chest. It will take some time before he stops feeling like an outsider to them, and intruder, but with the way Chanyeol helps him to climb over Jongin, spreading lube over his fingers to stretch Jongin open for his cock, with the way Jongin holds both their hands, straining his head up so the three of them can meet in a kiss.

He slowly believes it. That he is theirs, and they are his. Unquestionably.

Jongin spreads his legs for him, and Minseok kisses him, warming the lube and it almost doesn’t feel real, when he traces his finger around his hole, before gently inching it inside him, more and more until the whole of his finger is in his ass up to the knuckle. 

_“Ah,”_ Jongin whimpers, his uninjured leg spreading automatically, raising his knee and lifting his hips as he tries rolling his hips, taking a bit more of his finger in. “Oh, _oh.”_

“So pretty,” Minseok tells him, bending down low to kiss between his brows. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No,” Jongin whines, face twisting in pleasure and mouth dropping as he moans at the second finger Minseok pushes into him. Minseok spreads his fingers carefully inside, and Jongin’s head thrashes on the pillow, moaning even more and hips moving, his cock smearing precome over his taut belly. “Ah, _ah,_ it feels so good.”

Minseok leans down to kiss him gently once, and he leans back up to continue stretching him, fingering him open for his cock, and Chanyeol hooks a leg over Jongin’s unwrapped leg, curling in close and murmuring the gentlest filthy talk Minseok has ever heard, licking his cheek, turning his head to kiss him, encourage him further. 

Minseok fucks into his hole with three fingers, and Jongin whines, bearing down on the digits with languid rolls of his hips, so sensual, so fucking gorgeous, and Minseok watches, enraptured. He fucks in, driving his fingers in, and Jongin gives and gives, back arching and ass clenching around him. 

Chanyeol moans with him, reaching over to touch Jongin’s length lightly and ignoring his own, and Minseok looks at him. Feels achingly empty, and wants to be close, closer as well.

He wants everything, and it makes him feel a little selfish.

But, there’s a hand touching his chin tenderly. He looks back down, to where Jongin is looking at him silently. 

He doesn’t know how, but from the look that Jongin gives him alone, soft, glowing, Minseok knows that he _understands,_ and with the quiet nod he gives him, it’s his own way of saying, _‘It’s okay to want. It’s not selfish. You can be whatever you want, with us.’_

Minseok exhales the breath he sucks in, and leans down to kiss Jongin, lingering, grateful.

Jongin smiles against his mouth, kissing him once.

He holds his waist, and encourages him as Minseok leans back, pressing their foreheads together in a quiet moment, just taking it in. “Go ahead, Minseok.”

He breathes. Kisses him again.

Jongin chuckles softly, and when they part, they both are, unable to help it. Minseok looks to Chanyeol, who watches them with an equal, if not more fiercely fond expression on his face, and Minseok wants, loves him so.

He ambles his legs carefully over his lap, leaning down to kiss him once. When he pulls back, Chanyeol’s eyes are wide, dazed, slightly confused, but when Minseok smiles down at him, he follows almost instantly. A giggle together, all three of them, and Minseok pretends to bite at his lips, a little growl, and Chanyeol catches his lips, kissing him deeper, and Minseok grinds his ass back on Chanyeol’s cock, feeling his chest purr.

They sit up together, and he cradles Chanyeol’s head in his hands, kissing him again and again, sighing into his mouth as Chanyeol licks inside, hands squeezing his bottom. Minseok’s breath is short, and he gasps as Chanyeol pants, thrusting up where Minseok wants him most. 

“What, uh, what,” Chanyeol tries to ask, but he’s dazed, cock getting hard as Minseok slides it between his asscheeks, and his face is red. 

Minseok’s face is hot, and Jongin pats his legs comfortingly, encouragingly, and he’s extraordinarily fortunate with two such beautiful boys. He breathes, says, “I want you inside me.”

Chanyeol stares at him, visibly swallowing hard. His eyes are bright, but pupils blown out and Minseok thumbs his plump bottom lip, leaning in to lick it. 

“H-How?”

“The three of us, together,” he says, words coming slow, but he sees the instant Chanyeol understands, his moan louder than ever, and he surges up to kiss Minseok, mouth hot, tongue aggressive against Minseok’s own, and melts against him, pliant, letting him take as Jongin whimpers, watching them, holding the base of his cock in an effort not to come just yet.

So it’s with this that Jongin guides him back over to him, helping him get a condom rolled down over Minseok’s cock, lubed liberally, and his eyes are patient, bright, wanting. “Please. Inside me, _fuck me.”_

 _“Jongin, fuck,”_ Minseok moans, and it spills over. He sinks his cock inside his ass, and Jongin is _tight_ and _hot_ around him instantly, his hole clenching around his length as he plows into him slowly. 

Jongin _cries,_ the sound coming from deep within him as his chest heaves, his ass full of Minseok’s cock, and Minseok makes to pause, allow him to adjust, but Jongin shakes his head. Moves his hips, bears down on his cock, and Minseok’s throat goes very dry as Jongin crams himself full. 

“Don’t, _ah,_ don’t stop,” he says, rolling his hips, his body trembling from the pleasure, and he’s achingly gorgeous. Minseok chokes on a breath as he says, “Keep fucking me. Even when Chanyeol is stretching you.”

“Oh, _god,”_ Chanyeol moans then from the side, moving Jongin’s head to kiss him heatedly as Jongin fucks himself on Minseok’s unmoving cock. 

Minseok is nothing short of overwhelmed, his heart hammering in his chest. 

He stills Jongin’s hips, holding them in place, and after he pulls out slowly, ears attuned to the way Jongin whines so _shyly,_ so softly as he’s emptied, he _plunges_ his cock deeply inside his ass in one thrust.

Jongin _sobs,_ moaning as he arches his back, his ass so _perfect,_ taking all of him so well. Minseok groans, and he _fucks_ Jongin then, slow but every thrust _hard,_ their skin slapping together as they meet, and it’s almost _loud,_ the way his cock slams into his ass, filling up his hole. 

“Ah, _fuck, Minseok,”_ Jongin whimpers, and he’s pulling down Minseok’s face to his, latching on to his lips and moaning into his mouth as he’s fucked. “Faster.”

“I’ll, _ah,_ I’ll come too fast,” he says, but he obliges, increasing his pace slightly and pounding deeply into Jongin’s ass, the sound resounding in the room. “God, Nini, you’re so tight, _fuck,_ you feel so good around me-”

Jongin moans, his legs spreading even more as he’s plowed into. “Chanyeol-”

“Fuck, _fuck, fuck,”_ Chanyeol swears, slicking his fingers up and getting behind where Minseok is pistonining into Jongin’s ass, watching them heatedly as he strokes his own cock slowly. “Fuck, you’re both exquisite. Look so good, Jongin, taking it all, your ass is so sweet, so open around him-”

“Ah, _Chanyeol,”_ Jongin cries, his hole clenching at his words, and Minseok gasps as his ass flutters around him. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and Chanyeol whines, and then there’s something pressing against Minseok’s hole then.

“Fuck, _fuck,”_ he pants, his whole body shivering as Chanyeol circles his finger around the rim, before curling it inside his ass, slowly. “Chanyeol, oh god, _fuck-”_

“Look so good, Minseok,” he says, sounding entranced as he fingers him open, getting him ready for his big cock. “Look so good fucking him, filling up his ass-”

“Baby, _please,”_ he begs, but for what, he’s not so sure. 

Chanyeol seems to understand just what he needs, turning his head to kiss him, and Minseok whimpers into his mouth, gasping as Chanyeol bites his lips gently, pulling his bottom lip into his mouth and sucking. 

He sinks two fingers into his ass, tells him, “We’ve loved you for so long. This almost doesn’t feel real, you feel so _good.”_

Minseok groans, whimpers as he hangs his head low, can’t help but drill his cock a little faster into Jongin’s ass at Chanyeol’s words, and he _rams_ in hard, the slap of their skin obscene. Jongin cries out, and his arms come around his shoulders pulling him in close as he fucks him.

“Sorry,” Minseok tells his kissing his closed eyelids, tasting a bit of his salty tears. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more gentle.”

“No,” Jongin moans, and his ass feels like heaven around him. “More, harder. Make me feel it, please.”

Minseok shudders, reluctant but wanting, and then Chanyeol is pushing three fingers into his ass. He gasps loudly, and he pounds forward _hard_ into Jongin, hostling him up slightly on his bed. 

He _moans,_ the softest, most gorgeous sound, and his head falls back on his pillow, and Minseok’s throat goes dry, his cock going even harder inside him, and. He really can’t believe it: two of the most beautiful, profoundly tender, patient people he has come to meet, staying with him like this. Showing a part of themselves so intimately to Minseok, right in his bed, where he never allowed himself to even envision them. It overwhelmed him, makes his chest tight, his eyes sting. 

“Beautiful,” Chanyeol hums, leaning in low to kiss Jongin, then kissing Minseok’s jaw, down his neck, all the while stretching him open with three fingers.

Minseok feels like he’s floating, everything too good, fucking Jongin on to the mattress, on the cheap Bay standard sheets when they both deserve much more, but they give to him hundredfold. 

“I, I think he’s going to need four,” Jongin gasps, thighs parting even more as Minseok rails into him, and Minseok’s whole body trembles, overwhelmed. 

“Oh, _fuck,”_ he breathes, his head dropping to Jongin’s chest, and he stills inside him, burying his cock deep within his body, his belly too hot as it is, ready to snap. “I, I don’t think I can hold it.”

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol kisses his cheek, and the little devil, pushes into his hole with _four_ fingers, and Minseok shouts, _ramming_ into Jongin’s hole, and Jongin gasps beneath him, whining as his cock spills slightly over his stomach. “We’ll take care of you. If it feels good, don’t stop it.”

“Baby, Nini, _fuck,”_ he whimpers, and Chanyeol drives his fingers into him, and Jongin squeezes around his length, and they make him feels so good, together. He hopes he’s making them feel even better. 

“Oh, _Marshal,”_ Jongin whines, and Minseok’s face heats dangerously, and he didn’t ever think being called such when he’s doing this would make him even harder, drilling into Jongin’s beautiful body and making him shout with the force of it, but here he is.

Chanyeol catches on, of course, and he’s positioning himself behind him, the fat head of his cock just prodding at his hole, and he lowers his mouth to his ear, murmuring, “I’m going to fuck you now, _Marshal.”_

He gasps, and doesn’t even see it coming. The heat in his belly snaps, and he’s moaning as he rabbits into Jongin’s ass, spilling into the condom and wringing it out, and he feels his entire boyd going pink, inside and out.

“Oh, you’re _beautiful,”_ Jongin murmurs, pulling Minseok’s face down to his and kissing him as he’s still panting, coming down. 

“Fuck,” he’s blushing profusely, embarrassed and overwhelmed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it must have felt good,” Chanyeol kisses his shoulder, drawing his cock back, and Minseok whines. 

“I, let’s keep going,” he tells them, breath short, and they both still, looking at him.

“Are, are you sure?” Jongin asks him, but Minseok feels his ass clench around him, betraying his want. Minseok smiles for him, leans down to kiss him.

Chanyeol is more open with his desire, moaning as his cock slides between Minseok’s cheeks, and Minseok can feel how much he wants to be inside him.

And Minseok. He _wants,_ wants to fuck Jongin and make him moan and come and spill all over himself, and he wants to be filled with Chanyeol’s cock, wants him to fuck him and cram his hole full. He wants _so much,_ wants to make them feel good and feel good himself, and they lean in to kiss either of his cheeks.

“We love you,” Chanyeol tells him, and Minseok would cry if he weren’t so hard again already, needing to fuck and be fucked. Thinks he’ll cry regardless. 

“I love you, love you both,” he says, and they both kiss him again, sandwiching him between them, and he doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

He pulls out, and Jongin and Chanyeol reach for him immediately, taking care of him without another word. Minseok blushes profusely, biting back his moans as Chanyeol slips the condom off of him, tying it off and ridding of it, while Jongin procures another, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it down his cock, lubing him up again. 

“Ah, ah, _fuck,”_ he murmurs, pushing his pulsing cock through Jongin’s fingers, and Jongin is kissing him gently.

“Does it hurt?” he’s asking, and Chanyeol is embracing him calmly, kissing his shoulder. 

Minseok shakes his head, “No, it’s just. It’s a little sensitive. But, I want to.”

“Oh, Marshal,” he says, and Minseok closes his eyes, his whole face turning red with embarrassment, but they kiss him together. 

“There’s no shame in it, just let yourself feel good,” Chanyeol says, kissing his neck, and guiding his cock back into where Jongin is waiting, wanting. 

When he slides in, slides home until he’s balls deep, he breathes slowly, Jongin whining and moaning as he’s filled up again. He takes a moment, and _fucks him,_ driving into him and pushing through the sensitivity. Jongin is tight, sweet around his cock, and so effortlessly making Minseok feel so _good,_ his body pliant and soft under him. 

“Chanyeol,” Jongin is saying, gasping as Minseok pistons into him, “Now, now.”

“Fuck,” Chanyeol mutters, and he’s behind Minseok again, pressing the head of his length against Minseok’s hole. “Marshal, I’ll. I’m going in, now.”

He waits patiently for his answer, and Minseok breathes, and they hold him, breathing with him. 

“Please,” he says, his whole body trembling with want. 

Chanyeol moans, hands gripping Minseok’s hips as he positions himself, guides his cock to where he’s open, waiting. He sinks in, more and more, until his hips are flush to Minseok’s ass, and the three of them moan, together, finally.

Minseok’s body feels like it’s lit up, curls of pleasure overwhelming him to the tips of his fingers, and he whimpers, tight heat enveloping his cock, and a thickness cramming him full, and. He feels a little more complete, and wholly safe.

“Oh, fuck, _fuck,”_ he moans, and it might have been a good thing, that he had already come earlier on, as he’s helplessly overwhelmed, overwrought with pleasure from either end. “Fuck, fuck, _baby,_ you’re so big, fuck-”

“Marshal,” Chanyeol whimpers, holding his breath as he draws back slowly, and then _slamming_ back into Minseok’s ass, the slap of their skin driving Minseok crazy, making him pant and rock his own hips back to take his cock in deeper. “Minseok, oh my god-”

“More, baby,” he whispers, and Chanyeol leans down to kiss him fiercely, plunging his cock back into him, driving Minseok to fuck into Jongin deeper, harder. The three of them gasp, moaning in unison as they come together, and Minseok hangs his head low, breathing deeply, almost unable to believe any of this is happening, to him. He didn’t think he could deserve this, after everything that had happened. After the punishment he would never allow himself to refuse.

But, with the way Jongin leans up, tilting his head down to capture his lips in the most tender kiss, murmuring soft words against his mouth, his body accepting his so seamlessly, beautifully, and with the way Chanyeol embraces him, an arm curled protectively around his waist and his lips soothign the bruises on Minseok’s back, his cock fucking into his ass and finding a home within him, accepting him completely, Minseok can exhale, finally. 

“Ah, _fuck,_ your ass is so tight,” Chanyeol moans, and Minseok whimpers, raising his hips a little more, craving for him to plunge into him deeper, leave room for nothing else. “Minseok, _fuck-”_

“You look so good, both of you,” Jongin says below them, gasping and crying out as Minseok plows into him, his body pushed higher up the bed, so much so that he and Minseok both place their palms on the headboard so his head doesn’t hit it. 

Minseok watches him, enraptured with the way his kiss-bruised lips part, wider and wider as he moans, louder and louder still as Minseok gives him his cock, drilling into him.

“I love you, I love you,” Minseok says, kissing him, and Jongin whines, kissing him in turn, his body shaking with it.

“God, _oh fuck,”_ Chanyeol hammers into him, hips slapping against his ass, and Minseok whimpers, overwhelmed on all fronts, being fucked by a man he loves and fucking another he loves as well, but his heart, while pounding and racing in his chest, is strangely at peace. Like it feels it belongs here, somehow, between them. 

“Oh, _oh god,”_ Jongin says then, and Minseok sees it on his face. How _close_ he is, how the pleasure is overtaking his body and filling him, needing release. “I, _fuck,_ please fuck me. Harder, I’m-”

“I got you, Nini,” Minseok tells him, and he takes his hands in his, pinning them to the mattress over his head, and, with as much control as he can muster as Chanyeol fucks him from behind, Minseok _rams_ into him hard, drilling his cock into his hole, their skin slapping together. 

Jongin moans below him endlessly, little _“uh, uh, uh”_ ’s streaming from his lips as his ass is pounded, and Minseok can’t stop watching him, like a little miracle.

“Oh, Jongin,” Chanyeol says, awed as he watches Jongin be fucked, and he’s leaning over to kiss him gently. Minseok’s heart swells as he watches them, as Chanyeol lets Jongin cry into his mouth, gentle despite the way he pistons into Minseok’s ass in a perfect pace. He’s so, so, _so_ lucky, with them. Cannot believe it all. 

“I, _I’m gonna come,”_ Jongin whines, and Minseok reaches down to join their kiss, licking against their lips, and he releases one hand from Jongin’s grip to reach down to stroke his cock, but he’s barely touching him when Jongin gasps, the tip spilling all over his torso, up to his chest, and his ass clenching around Minseok, making him groan.

“Beautiful, beautiful boy,” Minseok praises him, and Jongin sniffs, smiling as his eyes are wet, like he can’t believe it either. Minseok loves him, loves Chanyeol, who brushes back the sweaty strands of hair off Jongin’s face with a tender smile, and his chest is tight, but not with worry. With gratitude, love, affection.

Jongin looks up at them both, sated, and he’s giggling, cupping his own face with his hands, so happy. Minseok smiles at him, blushing when Jongin says brightly, “That felt good.”

“Looked good,” Chanyeol says, and he’s still buried inside Minseok, and Minseok gasps as he moves slightly. He leans down to kiss Minseok’s shoulder again, and pauses, and Minseok can feel his nervousness, knows there are words he wants to say but can’t.

“What is it, baby?” he asks him, moving one hand down to hold Chanyeol’s, where it’s placed over his waist. “You can tell me.”

The pause is prolonged, and then, Minseok watches curiously, fondly, as Jongin reaches up to touch Chanyeol’s cheek comfortingly, smiling softly, words shared between them silently, as if they were in the drift. 

Then, Chanyeol is pulling out of him, and Minseok looks back, confused, but he’s turning over to his back next to Jongin, eyes bright with apprehension as he spreads his legs a little, taking Jongin’s hand in his and gripping tightly before he says quietly, “Please. Please, Marshal. I want you inside me, too.”

And Minseok chokes on his tongue, heart racing in his chest, and. _Fuck._

“Are you-”

“I’m sure,” Chanyeol says, and it’s like Minseok can see inside his head. The pink haze in his mind, the words so clear, _‘please, I trust you. I love you.’_

His chest shudders, and he looks at jongin, who’s smiling, and he tells them both, “You’re spoiling me.”

“No, we _love you,”_ Jongin answers, and Chanyeol beams beautifully next to him. “We just want you to feel it.”

“Oh, god,” Minseok says, knowing that after tonight, he’ll never be able to resist. And he finds that he doesn’t mind so much, as he pulls out of Jongin, the second condom taken off of his cock and a third one rolled down and his cock lubed and he’s _so spoiled._

They both chuckle with him, and Minseok remembers he’s been in the drift, with them both. And his heart is at ease, lightened that he trusted the right people, who he knows will take care of him well. 

He moves over to hover between Chanyeol’s spread legs, taking the lube to spread some over his fingers to open Chanyeol up, but a thought passes over his head, making him pause. He looks down at them, and he smiles.

“Nini, sweet boy, give me your hand,” he says, and Jongin blinks, but obliges. Minseok takes two of his fingers, and runs his tongue over the length, and he hears them moan, Chanyeol’s tailing into a growl as he inserts the digits into his mouth, getting them slick for him.

“Fuck,” Jongin says, watching him, entranced. Minseok blushes, but persists, before pulling his hand out of his mouth, bringing it over to Chanyeol’s ass. 

“Open him up for me, Nini,” Minseok breathes, and Chanyeol moans, his thighs twitching and wanting. 

Jongin trembles, but he turns carefully to his uninjured side, Minseok guiding him carefully, and he kisses Chanyeol heatedly, tonguing into his mouth. He licks the tips of his fingers, already wet from Minseok’s mouth, and he moves them down to his hole, and with sure, practiced motions of lovers already comfortable with each other, familiar with each other’s bodies, he pushes one finger in, up to the knuckle, in one thrust. 

Chanyeol moans, hips rolling as Jongin stretches him, and Minseok watches them. He feels a lot, and he’s almost overwhelmed again, but the emotions settle, and. He smiles a little sadly to himself, but more than anything, he is endlessly happy, that these two have found each other. That they were not afraid to lean on each other, and did not waste time to confirm their mutual love. 

He is not there yet, with either of them. If he feels some regret over anything, it’s this. But, when Chanyeol reaches up for him, bringing his head down so they can kiss him, one kiss after the other, he knows that it won’t be very long until these feelings fade. That it will be replaced with softness, time rewarded with familiarity and love, for the three of them. 

It takes barely any time for Jongin to stretch Chanyeol enough for Minseok’s cock, three of his fingers making slick, obscene noises as he thrusts into Chanyeol’s ass, and Minseok feels want and desperation claw up his throat, making his mouth dry and his cock twitch, aching to be inside him already. 

Chanyeol isn’t helping with the noises he makes, moaning and growling and whining, his hips moving on their own accord, and in a moment, Jongin pulls out his fingers, leaving a lingering kiss on his lips, and with a little grin, he takes Minseok’s length in his hand, and guides him to where Chanyeol is stretched just for him.

Minseok can barely take it, can barely breathe, so turned on his teeth hurt, his mind going fuzzy, Jongin and Chanyeol below him being the only things clear enough to focus on.

“Fuck him, Marshal,” Jongin tells him, the smile in his voice laced with lethal sensuality.

Minseok and Chanyeol both moan at his words, and Minseok looks down at Chanyeol, who easily gives him his consent and permission asnods instantly, desperately.

So, he doesn’t hold back. He _rams_ his cock into his hole, filling him up all at once, not stopping until his hips slap against his ass.

Chanyeol moans, Jongin moans, and their hands reach out for his shoulders, his hips, whatever they can reach, and they hold him together as he pulls out of Chanyeol, only to _slam_ back into his ass, his hole stretched tightly around his cock, and the heat is swirling in his belly again. 

“I, _fuck,_ I don’t think I’ll last,” he says, fucking into Chanyeol, who spreads his legs wider and thrashes his head on the pillows, looking wrecked already.

“I, _ah, there, right there,”_ he cries out as Minseok raises himself up to his knees, lifting his hips and and driving into him, pulling his body to his cock, filling him up _just right._ Minseok pounds into him, biting hard on his lips as he nails his cock into Chanyeol, eyes flitting between watching his blissed out face, and his hole, stretched thin around his hammering cock but taking him _so well._

“What, baby,” he says, bending over to lick at Chanyeol’s panting lips. “You were saying?”

“I, _ah,_ fuck, I’m going to come,” he says, his hole visibly twitching and his cock, flushed red and bouncing against his belly as he’s fucked, spilling and smearing over his stomach.

Minseok swallows, losing any words he might have had, and he fucks Chanyeol, pistoning into his ass and making it deep, making it hard, so he won’t forget it. He grips his hips tighter and bringing him back to his hammering cock, and Chanyeol arches his back, growling and crying as he’s rammed into. 

Minseok is desperately close to coming, his chest so full, and he can’t hold off much longer, not when these two are so beautiful, so pliant and open beneath him. His hand moves down to squeeze one of Chanyeol’s asscheeks, spreading him open a little more, and he watches as his cock slides home, Chanyeol crying out and pleading for more, _“Harder, faster.”_

Minseok fucks him, harder and harder, and it won’t take any time at all. He breathes, in and out, looks to Jongin, who watches them with a steady, heated gaze, lips parted, and Minseok moans for him. Looks back at Chanyeol, and swallows. Asks him, “Do you think you could take a little more, baby?”

Chanyeol’s eyes are glazed over, a little drool spilling from the corners of his mouth, but he asks in a steady tone, “What do you mean by ‘more?’”

Minseok breathes. “My cock, and Jongin’s fingers, together.”

Jongin whimpers, and Chanyeol sobs, breathing out an immediate, _“Yes, yes, yes.”_

Minseok _loves him,_ loves them both so much. Leans down, kisses him with a lot of tongue, “Thank you, baby.”

“Anything for you, Marshal,” Jongin is the one who replies, and Minseok’s chest is so tight with emotion. He takes a deep breath, trying not to let the way Chanyeol’s ass, so hot and tight inside and squeezing around his cock, overwhelm him just yet. 

Jongin spreads more lube around his already slicked fingers, and Minseok takes his hand, pulling him closer to where Chanyeol is taking his cock into his body. He sees the way they both tremble, clinging to each other, to him, and Minseok kisses them, taking the bit of time to lick gently into their mouths, and he feels himself tremble.

After a moment, Jongin moves his hand, and traces right where Minseok is keeping Chanyeol open with his cock. They all groan, and Minseok cannot,  _ cannot breathe.  _

When Jongin inserts his finger into Chanyeol’s ass alongside Minseok’s cock, Chanyeol  _ whines,  _ sobbing as he arches his back impossibly, crying out as his ass is filled. Minseok is close to crumbling, his chest hammering and chipping away at his resolve and control as he  _ fucks  _ Chanyeol, plows into his hole, ramming into him as Jongin fingers him, filling him doubly. Chanyeol takes it all beautifully, hands searching for purchase everywhere he can reach, panting and gasping and Minseok is about to lose it.

As it turns out, as Jongin insert a second finger into him, Chanyeol loses it first. 

_ “Fuck, fuck, fuck,”  _ he wails, shouting as his hole clenches around everything cramming into it, body lifting up from the bed as his cock spills, shoots all over his torso, up to his neck, untouched. 

He comes, and comes, for a long time, his body twitching and trembling as he continues to spill ribbons of white all over himself and Minseok, and he’s whimpering as his body calms, Jongin pulling out his fingers to cup his face instead, kissing him, murmuring words of praise against his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Minseok grits out, his nails biting down into Chanyeol’s ass where he’s still gripping him, and he  _ needs  _ to come. Needs it, needs to  _ fuck him,  _ wreck him. 

He doesn’t need to ask, as Chanyeol and Jongin both look at him, and their eyes share similar expressions of want, exhaustion, and need. When Chanyeol speaks, his voice is out of breath, but his words clear, “Take me, Marshal. Don’t hold back.”

Minseok moans, his skin coming up in goosebumps, and he raises his hips up again, and pulls Chanyeol down to his desperate, driving cock. Chanyeol moans, Jongin moans, and Minseok is urged by the sounds alone to ram into him, fuck him harder and harder still, Chanyeol’s hole heavenly around his length, and it doesn’t take much more than the two of them, voices soft as they call out for him.

“Come for us,” Jongin says, reaching up to touch his arm gently.

“Come, Marshal,” Chanyeol adds, almost as quietly, and Minseok gasps, shouting as he spills into the condom, shooting inside of Chanyeol’s ass, and he feels it in every part of his body.

He breathes slowly, slower still, trying to take it all in, and he can barely move. Not just from exhaustion and exertion, but. His head is so full, his chest just as much, and he’s overwhelmed to a degree he didn’t know was possible. 

But, with motions even more tender than their words, Chanyeol and Jongin gently move him. Help him pull out of Chanyeol, who barely winces as he’s suddenly empty, with Jongin taking the condom and throwing it away, Chanyeol cleaning their fronts, and.

Minseok lays between them, curling into Chanyeol’s chest, and, silently, he begins to cry. Tears rolling down his cheeks, spilling on to Chanyeol’s skin, and he doesn’t know why he’s crying. Doesn’t know anything but the way his soul feels full and yet so light, a peace he’s unfamiliar to settling deep within his chest. 

It’s strange, but he latches on to it. Is already so fond of it.

And neither of them are perturbed. Chanyeol adjusts his position so Minseok can lay more comfortably against him, and Jongin curls up behind him, kissing the back of his neck, and they say nothing, letting Minseok take in the moment. They simply comfort him, quietly, with the softest touches and softest kisses they offer so unselfishly. 

“Don’t run away from us now,” Chanyeol murmurs quietly, brushing his hair with his fingers.

Minseok’s chest shudders as he suppresses a sob. “I won’t,” he promises. Means it.

It’s quiet again, and they hold each other in the silence of his quarters. It’s not as cold as he knows it to be, no longer lonely, the punishing darkness of the night choking him less and less. It’s warm, and he keeps crying, hiding his face in Chanyeol’s chest, linking his fingers with Jongin’s, placing their hands over his belly. It’s relief, forgiveness. Not quite healing yet, but he will get there, soon.

“Minseok,” Chanyeol starts quietly. “Please, look at me.”

He sniffs, knows his face is blotchy and red and wet. He buries his face deeper into Chanyeol’s chest, but he’s patient, asking again. “Minseok. Please.”

“Marshal,” Jongin’s soft voice is murmuring against his ear then. “Please. Let us see you.”

Minseok shakes. But, he lifts his head up, and the view is breathtaking.

So much hope and brightness on their faces, and Minseok would really give them the world. A soft calmness settles in his heart, and another exhale.

“We’re with you now,” Chanyeol tells him. He’s smiling, eyes slightly, wet, but the dimple in his cheek is deep and his smile is a balm. “We’re yours. For you.”

“For you,” Jongin echoes, holding him tighter. 

Minseok exhales again, When he inhales, he takes the words with him, and believes in them. 

“I love you,” he says. Tears leak out from the corners of his eyes, but he smiles for them, saying, “Thank you.”

The words don’t seem enough, inadequate for the peace they have given him, but they understand anyway. 

When Minseok sleeps, it is to dreams of the present, and of the future. It is the first time in years. 

.

.

.

Minseok wakes to the sound of his alarm. Or, Chanyeol’s alarm. He’s not too sure, but in any case, it is too early, and he shuts it off promptly before resuming his position, Jongin curled up on his left, Chanyeol on his right, their arms thrown over him as they sleep, legs just as haphazardly arranged, entangled with his. 

He makes to sleep again, but his door is suddenly unlocked, and a bright Baekhyun opens the door, beaming with plenty of teeth as he slips his head in to greet him, “Morning, Marshal!”

“No,” he says curtly, and he closes his eyes before he can see Baekhyun’s pout. 

“But we need them on patrol, sir,” Baekhyun says, “Sehun said they would be here-”

“What does Sehun know,” Minseok huffs, moving so his chin is settled on top of Jongin’s head. 

“I can literally see them, right there, Marshal.”

“No.”

“This is an abuse of your authority, Marshal,” Baekhyun says pettily, “Even Marshal Zhang is here to check out the new Mark-9. Titan Wolf can’t be later for her debut.”

“I’m going to kick you out, Byun.”

“But  _ Marshal-” _

_ “Hmm,”  _ Jongin whines, still clearly asleep, but he snuggles up closer to Minseok, muttering, “Not now, I just took two dicks up my ass.”

Minseok’s eyes snap open, and he looks to the door, where Baekhyun’s jaw is dropped, eyes wide, a pink flush over his cheeks.

“Don’t believe him,” he says, even though it’s exactly what happened the night before. He’s careful not to let the blush show on his face.

“I don’t know, Marshal, I’m inclined to believe him,” Baekhyun says, and he asks him, “Hey, Jongin, was it good-”

Minseok throws his pillow at Baekhyun as he gets up from the bed, who squawks as he dodges it. 

“Marshal!” he pouts, before it turns into a full on frown, before he looks away again, face flushed red as Minseok walks over to his closet, naked as anything.

“Give them a few more minutes,” he says as he dresses up, “You’ve been exhausting them with all those tests-”

“Looks like you exhausted them more, though,” he replies, and Minseok throws his balled up socks at him.

“What did we say about commenting on our co-workers’ personal lives?” he says, putting on his pants and shrugging on his shirt.

“But we really do need them on patrol now-”

“Okay.”

Minseok blinks, Baekhyun blinks, and they both turn to look at Chanyeol, who is sitting up slowly on the bed, blanket falling off his waist to reveal his love bite abundant torso as he rubs at his eyes sleepily, and Minseok stares back at Baekhyun, glaring,  _ daring him  _ to say something.

Baekhyun gulps, and bows instead, greeting them politely. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Chanyeol yawns, bowing back to him, before he leans over, brushing the tufts of Jongin’s hair with gentle hands, saying softly, “Nini, wake up. We have to go.”

“Hmmm,” Jongin groans, stretching his limbs all over the place in reluctance to wake from his slumber, but he eventually opens his eyes, blinking blearily and pouting. Chanyeol smiles at him, leaning in to peck at his lips, and Minseok is  _ so soft,  _ his soul so warm as he watches them be soft with one another. 

To his delight, Baekhyun is pink with awkwardness, looking up at the ceiling, and Minseok holds in his laughter for later. For now, he puts on his leather jacket uniform, and pads back over to the bed, bending over to tell them tenderly, “I’ll see you both out there, I have some pre-evaluations to do.”

They mumble, pouting similarly, but they nod, puckering their lips at him for kisses, to which he obliges with a chuckle and several kisses each, and a few with the three of them together.

He walks out the room, Baekhyun waddling behind him, and it’s the day in the life. Cadets bow to him in the halls, the other pilots, the staff, and he nods along to all of them, greeting them as he makes his way to the deck. Not much has changed on the surface, but for Minseok,  _ everything _ is different. It’s good. 

“So, are you okay?” Baekhyun asks him suddenly as they near their destination, the halls clearing out and then it’s just them.

He hums. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Been a few years since either of them have been in a Jaeger,” he says, and he has a point. Minseok hums, considering, but while there is a slight worry in his chest, the kind that never goes away when you’re in this profession, when you’ve experienced as much as Minseok has, he feels calm. 

It’s becoming more and more familiar, and he smiles. He’d never known it before, but he’s thankful for it, now.

He is not phased. “No more Kaijus to fight. It’s just a patrol Jaeger. They’ll be fine.”

Baekhyun stares at him. He opens his mouth, and Minseok beats him to the punch, “If you say something even remotely inappropriate, I’m taking Heechul rights away from you.”

Baekhyun frowns, but he asks anyway, as Minseok had expected him to. “Do you think Junmyeon and Yixing would let me be their baby?”

Minseok turns to stare at him. Baekhyun looks entirely serious. 

“Well, it’s like. The three of you look so  _ happy,”  _ he says, waving his hands a bit as he gesticulates, and Minseok keeps on staring, even when they enter the deck and there are screens being shoved under his nose, awaiting his approval before the trial patrol. “And! You know, Yixing  _ and  _ Junmyeon.”

Minseok stares still, even as he begins reading through the first screen. “I don’t think they’d be into that. And anyway, Kyungsoo and Jongdae are  _ right there.” _

“Huh?” Baekhyun blinks. Minseok stares at him again. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know?” he says. At Baekhyun’s blank stare, he says, “Kyungsoo doesn’t tolerate  _ hours  _ of work in the lab alone with you for nothing, even though all you do is argue. He’s in love with you. And Jongdae is completely unsubtle. Have you really not noticed?”

Baekhyun stares then, eyes wide. “Huh? Huh?!”

“Morning, Min,” Junmyeon comes up to him then with another screen. “Final pre-evaluation test results are good. They’re ready to go.”

“Jongin’s leg?”

“Won’t be a problem,” Junmyeon says, before he looks over to Baekhyun, who’s still frozen at the revelation of  _ both  _ Kyungsoo and Jongdae liking him. “Whatever happened to letting them make their move?”

“Just speeding up the process a bit, no need to waste time like I did,” he answers, signing off on some other documents. “And he was suggesting that he be you and Xing’s baby.”

“No,” Junmyeon says, and Minseok figures as such. 

“Xing would probably love it, though.”

“He would,” Junmyeon says, sighing. Minseok smiles, affording a chuckle. 

Minutes later, Jongdae is announcing through the comms, “Secure Conn-Pod, get ready for coupling.”

It’s been years, but it doesn’t get old. Watching as the head travels through the chute, and attaching itself to the new Jaeger’s body. She’s a slick new model, the newest in the world. Hopefully she will be completely worthy of the pair piloting her. 

“Ranger Park, Ranger Kim, this is Marshal Kim Minseok,” says. He catches the smirks on the faces of Yixing and Yifan and Sehun and Zitao and the entirety of the staff, really. He ignores them all. “Prepare for neural handshake.”

_ “Yes sir,”  _ Chanyeol’s voice comes out in reply. His chest is warm. 

He imagines he’s in the drift with them. Says it quietly, clearly in his head,  _ I love you, love you both.  _

_ Love you too,  _ he hears in their voices. He smiles, not knowing if they’re thinking it at that exact moment, but he knows it rings true regardless. 

“Neural handshake confirmed, strong and holding,” Jongdae says. 

“Alright, Rangers. We’ll just run some trial tests today.”

_ “Copy,”  _ Jongin answers. 

“Stay near the Bay, and don’t go too far out,” he says. Pauses, and adds a little more quietly, “Be sure to come back.”

_ To me,  _ he doesn’t say aloud. 

A small chuckle on the other end. The Bay gates open, and Titan Wolf steps out, but not before they tell him clearly, through the comms, appeasing him instantly. 

_ “For you, Marshal.” _

_. _

**Author's Note:**

> I began writing this in June 2018, and dedicate this to my small circle of mutuals, who have encouraged me endlessly, especially to [miss caro](https://twitter.com/drminseok), whose love for pacific rim and minseok inspired the plot, to [miss jess](https://twitter.com/99DEUXIU), who I spoiled a crucial bit of plot to and is still nice to me even though I'm being mean :(, to [taire](https://twitter.com/vrsehun) who convinced me to make it xiukaiyeol, to [miss ty](https://twitter.com/minshooked), who hasn't even seen pacific rim and is still probably going to read this njenrnnj, and to everyone else who listened and read my sporadic tweets complaining about this fic, writing about it, and my fears knowing I fridged precious people for the purpose of plot. 
> 
> thank you if you have made it here. I love you.
> 
> I ask that if you have any reactions, come find me here: 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/xiusikwoo)


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